


Heist Hour

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [23]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Asthma, Developing Friendships, F/F, Gen, PTSD, Racism, Strained Friendships, drug mention, god they almost fucking die in this one, guns ???, jd's father is in this one, obviously, there's guns in this one, tw transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: It's heist hour, and alliances are formed, friendships are built, and arguments happen.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke & Betty Finn, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590
Comments: 17
Kudos: 277





	1. The Heist

“Okay, so I know your birthday isn’t for a few days,” Mara said, sliding along the bench until she bumped into Veronica’s side. “ _But_ I was thinking that I could give my present to you early.”

Veronica tilted her head. “And what would that be?”

“Well, you see, when you turn eighteen, suddenly almost all the world becomes your oyster! Not that I know what that saying _really_ means.” She giggled. “You can use needles to put permanent drawings on your skin and then stick holes through it to keep jewelry stuck to your body.”

“I can already do the second thing,” she said, pointing to her cartilage piercing. Mara just blew the thought off.

“ _Pffft._ Yeah, but only in _some_ places.” She wiggled her brows suggestively.

“What are you-” Veronica cut herself off when it clicked. “ _Oh._ ” Her eyes dropped to Heather’s chest. “Wait, are you actually going to-”

“That’ll be a birthday surprise.” She grinned. “But no, I’m just playing around. What I’m actually asking is if you’d like to go and get a piercing together.”

Veronica smiled. “Sure! What piercing did you want?”

Mara’s legs kicked back and forth. “Well… there isn’t just _one_ , but the one I had in mind was he-ya.” She suddenly stuck out her tongue and pointed a finger to it. Veronica raised a brow.

“Did you get inspired by me by any chance?”

She smiled innocently. “Perhaps.”

“If you’re getting tongue piercings, go somewhere _professional_ ,” Duke told them from across the table. “If your tongues swell up and you choke, I’m only going to save Emmy.”

Veronica gaped. “What? Why not _me?_ ”

“Because I’m dating her, and also because I’ve saved your life already.”

“Aww! I appreciate it!” Mara said.

“I mean, sure, save her, but also that’s _rude_.”

“I’ll make it up to you with your birthday present,” Duke said. “What exactly are you getting from your parents?”

“Driving lessons.”

The two of them gave her an odd look.

“Huh?”

Veronica laughed. “I plan on getting a motorcycle at some point.”

“Motorcycle, huh?” A third voice sounded from behind her, along with hands landing on her shoulder. Veronica looked up, and saw Chandler gazing back down at her curiously. “Sounds interesting, and potentially hot.”

Mara scooched closer. “I have to agree.”

Chandler then glanced at her. “You stole my usual seat.”

“You weren’t here!” she protested. “Am I not allowed to sit next to my girlfriend?”

“Heather, _hush,_ ” Duke suddenly scolded. “People tend to pay attention to our table. Don’t say that so loud.”

“Sorry,” Mara said.

“In her defense, she sounded pretty quiet, and I’m standing right next to her,” Chandler said.

“That’s because both of you have the worst volume control.”

“I have an excuse!” Mara stated.

“What would that be?” Veronica asked.

“When you’re autistic, you just have the _best_ senses,” Mara said, batting her lashes and leaning her head on her hands. “I’m kidding, I can’t hear shit.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” She glanced back up at Chandler. “What’s your excuse?”

Chandler shrugged. “Beats me. Now, Mac, I want to sit next to Veronica.”

“So do I!”

“Heather’s lonely,” she said pitifully, gesturing to Duke, who gave a nod.

“She’s right. I’m lonely.” She pleadingly gazed at Mara, who just gave Veronica a farewell-pat on her thigh, before swapping sides. As she made her way around to Duke’s side, Veronica heard her name being called elsewhere. She turned around just as Chandler sat down next to her, and soon caught the sight of Betty making her way over to her.

“Veronica! Over here.” She waved at her to grab her attention, and Veronica waved back.

“Hey, Betty!” she said when Betty paused not far away from the table. “Everything okay?”

“Uh… yeah. Everything’s fine.” She gave a grin, though it looked terribly put on. “I just need to borrow you for a sec, if that’s okay with your superiors.” She bowed slightly and gave a grand gesture to the Heathers.

“Oh come _on,_ I just sat down!”

Veronica gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t have been late to lunch.”

“Hey, Mr Harrop can be a real bitch when he wants to be!” she argued. “He made me stay behind in woodwork because I sliced some wood _slightly_ unevenly!”

“You poor thing.” Veronica gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Hurry back,” she shot back, before Veronica stood up to leave. Betty then led her out of the cafeteria, and down the hallway until they reached a less crowded area of the school. Veronica gave her a confused look.

“Where are we going?”

“I just needed a bit more privacy,” she said, stopping by some lockers. There were maybe three or four other people in the hallway, and one of them was wearing headphones plugged into a portable tape player.

“How come?”

Betty grimaced. She seemed a little on edge, which contrasted against her usual abrasive attitude like an eyesore. “I need to ask you something, and you’re to lecture me about how crazy it is before I’m even finished.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Try me. I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

Betty arched a brow, before sharply exhaling.

“Has JD ever told you about how he’s moving a lot?”

“Moving?”

“As in, moving house.”

“Oh.” Veronica had to think for a second. “He might’ve? I don’t know, he tells me a lot of things.”

“Well, he does. His dad’s a deconstruction worker-”

“ _De-_ construction?”

“Yeah. He blows buildings up and shit. You ever seen Big Bug Dean on TV?”

“Oh yeah!”

“That’s his dad.”

Veronica widened her eyes. “Holy shit, really? That’s him? That’s so cool-!”

“He’s a dick.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Dammit, I thought I was going to meet a celebrity.”

“I’d hardly call him that, but okay.” She shook her head. “But I’m gonna cut to the chase. JD said that he _might_ be moving away again, and by ‘might’, he means he’s definitely going to be moving again.”

Veronica’s heart dropped. “Moving? When? _Where?_ ”

“When? I don’t know, could be next week, could be tomorrow for all I know. Where, I do know.” She scowled. “Texas.”

Veronica gaped in disbelief. “But… _Texas?_ That’s so far-”

“I know.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I know.” Betty placed a hand on Veronica. “What’s even more unfair is that JD is going to be left with his dad. _Alone_.” Her gaze darkened. “I don’t want him to go through that.”

Veronica bit her lip, her day suddenly growing darker at the idea of saying goodbye to her friend. “Maybe he’ll find friends in Texas, at least?”

Betty let out a loud scoff, before cupping Veronica’s cheeks and pulling her closer so that her stare would split through her skull.

“Veronica,” she said in a low voice that was quiet, but she could still hear loud and clear. “JD is a transgender, bisexual man with PTSD relating to loud noises that sound like explosions.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you think he’s going to find _anything_ good in Texas, you need a goddamn reality check.”

Veronica blinked at her, feeling somewhat intimidated, before giving a single nod. Betty let go of her.

“Okay, you make a good point,” she said. “But I don’t know what can be done, Betty.”

“I do.” Betty then grinned. “We’re gonna break him out of his home.”

Veronica froze.

“ _What?_ ” She let out a breathless laugh. “Betty, that’s insane.”

“I’m not finished-”

“We can’t just kidnap JD from his house, his dad will just come looking for him. _Here._ In this fucking school. Won’t be hard.”

While she spoke, Betty just leaned back against the lockers and looked as though she was half listening. When she finally stopped, Betty gave a huff.

“See?”

Veronica frowned. “Okay, fuck off.”

“Let me finish, Ronnie,” Betty then said. “Look, his dad isn’t going to look for him. Even if he did want to bother, we’d be doing it before moving day, so he won’t have time to.” She grinned. “By the time he notices he’s gone, the moving truck will already be outside. He won’t bother going after him. He doesn’t care enough to.”

“I’m listening.”

Betty smiled hopefully. “If we group up and break JD out the night before, we should be able to grab his belongings.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll just tell him the plan as soon as we have one, and he’ll drop his motorcycle by my house so he doesn’t wake his dad up with the noise.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Veronica cut in. “Have you told him about this?”

“Not yet, no.”

“So we don’t even know if he’ll be okay with this?”

“Oh, he will be.”

“You don’t know that!”

Betty shrugged. “Meh.” She then tilted herself to the side to look somewhere behind Veronica. “Hey, JD, do you know what day you’re moving?”

Veronica blinked at her, before whipping her head around to indeed see JD, sauntering down the corridor towards them, hands in pockets and curly black hair covering most of his face. It was as though he was darker than his surroundings; a heavy, black cloud was all that was missing from his gloomy aesthetic.

“Friday,” he said dryly. “Hi, Veronica.”

Veronica silently waved.

“You want us to break you out of your home on Thursday night?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Then he kept walking. He didn’t look at them again, just vanished around a corner.

“See? Told you.” Betty said smugly, folding her arms. “Anyone would take any opportunity to break out of an abusive household.”

“Yeah? Where is he going to go if this all goes to plan?”

“My parents are okay with him staying with me.”

“Wait, you _told_ your parents about this?”

Betty rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised. My dad has an electric blue mohawk and chants ‘smash the fash’ in his sleep.” She held out a hand. “Now, are you in or what?”

Veronica bit her lip, looking down the corridor where JD had been moments before, then looked back at Betty.

“I don’t want him to go,” she sighed. “And I _really_ don’t want him to be stuck in an abusive home by himself.” She clasped her hand with Betty’s. “I’m in.”

“Great!” Betty exclaimed. “Now that leads me onto the next part of the plan.”

“Mhmm?”

“You see, JD has quite a few heavy belongings that he will _not_ want to leave behind. You, Martha, him and I won’t be able to carry it all two miles back to my place.”

“Uh-huh?”

“We need a car. In fact, we probably need two. Not only do we need to fit in his belongings, we need to fit in _us_ , in case we need to make a quick escape.”

“Betty, none of us have cars, and even if we did, I’m the only one who can drive. And even then, I don’t actually have a driving license yet, so that’s illegal."

“Usually I’m down for illegal activity, but you’re right.” She gave a sigh. “We don’t have cars.” She then looked up at her, a mischievous glint visible in her eye. “But you know a couple of people who do.”

Veronica looked at her weirdly for a moment, and continued to hold her suspicious gaze up until she figured out what she was hinting at. She stared at her in disbelief.

“Seriously?”  
  


* * *

“And that’s why we need your help.”

She stared at the trio hopefully, biting her tongue to prevent herself from begging any further. For a while, they were all silent, simply exchanging bewildered gazes with each other. Then,

“Veronica, isn’t this a fucking crime?” Chandler asked. “It’s kidnapping.”

“Not if it’s consensual.”

“Fair point,” Mara said.

“No, _not_ fair point!” Duke protested. “This plan is fucking crazy.”

“Also, you expect me to take time out of my day to help that lone wolf?”

“Yes. He’s probably in danger.” Veronica stared at her seriously. “I know that this is risky and stupid, but if I’m to take anything from philosophy class, then to do nothing to help him because it’s unconventional would probably make us complicit.” She then gave a snort. “And don’t act like something being a _crime_ is enough to deter you. You literally have a fake ID and use it to drink underage.”

As Chandler shrank away from her, Mara also raised her hand.

“Oh! And we’ve done hard drugs before.”

“Exactly.” She blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It was once!” Chandler muttered. “Mac and I did coke at a party once.”

“It didn’t go to plan,” Mara said.

“Wait, wait. _You_ did coke?” She pointed at her. “I can understand _you_ ,” she pointed at Chandler, “but _you?_ ”

Mara shrugged. “Slow day. But then we didn’t even get the effect we wanted.”

“Yeah, it made us actually want to do our homework,” Chandler spat in disgust. “Seriously, what the fuck was with that?”

“We’ve never done it again since.”

Veronica stared at the two of them, stunned for a moment, before shaking her head.

“We’re getting off topic! Please, I need your guys’ help.”

She looked at them all desperately, waiting for a response.

“I’ll help you.”

She looked at Mara thankfully.

“You will?”

She gave a nod. “Sure.” She twirled some hair around her finger. “I know what it’s like to want to escape from a shitty parent.” She shrugged. “But then she left instead, so all is good.” She smiled at her. “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you!” She leaned over and gave her a brief embrace, before letting go. “Unfortunately, that’s not enough. Because the thing we need most is a vehicle.” She slowly looked at Duke, who’s gaze was elsewhere, as if she were avoiding making eye contact. She rolled her eyes, before walking over to Chandler. “Please?”

Chandler stared up at her.

“And why should I help your little crew?”

Veronica said nothing. Instead, she settled down next to her, took a moment to breathe, and then slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes, revealing them to be wide and glistening. Of course she could only guess how they looked through Chandler’s distraught eyes.

“Veronica, what the fuck!”

Veronica sniffed loudly and squeezed her eyes shut. “ _Please_ can you help us, my sweet, loving, definitely not a bitch, girlfriend who I really love?” She covered her mouth as she let out a faux sob.

“ _Since when can you cry on command!_ ” she barked just as Veronica felt a tear well up in the corner of her eye, before flowing over and rolling down her cheek. She sniffed again and her voice shook as she spoke.

“I took drama classes in freshman and sophomore year,” she wept.

“No, this isn’t going to work!” Chandler grunted, turning away. “You’re faking it!”

“And here I thought you _liked_ doing rebellious things, Heather!” she cried, splaying her hand across the table. She continued to let out her sobs for a few moments, watching as Chandler shifted uncomfortably in her seat, up until,

“Okay, _fine!_ ”

Veronica immediately switched to chippy again and smiled.

“I knew you would.” She then turned to Duke. “Unfortunately, that isn’t enough.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Chandler mumbled next to her.

“There’s going to be seven of us plus luggage, which includes two large pet tanks,” Veronica said, and Mara gasped.

“Pet tanks? For what type of pets?”

“A hamster and a leopard gecko.”

Mara squeaked and pressed her palms against her cheeks. “That’s adorable!”

“It is, but they stay behind if we don’t have another car, preferably a large make.” She leaned over the table, closer to Duke. She was still looking away. “Something like a _jeep_.”

Duke still didn’t give any implication that she was even listening, until Mara nudged her with her elbow. She finally looked over to Veronica, who immediately brought back her crocodile tears.

“Not gonna work.”

“Dammit,” she hissed under her breath. “What if I asked you nicely?”

She shook her head. “That means teaming up with _them_.”

“We’ve done it before,” Mara said. Duke scorned.

“Because Veronica was dying and we all wanted to see her.”

“It’s not like you’re helping Betty or Martha, you know,” Veronica said. “You’re helping JD, who you have no connections to at all. Betty and Martha will just _happen_ to be there.”

Duke suddenly turned to her and made a sharp silencing motion with her hand, gritting her teeth furiously. Before Veronica could ask why, Chandler spoke up,

“Wait, connections?”

“Never mind that,” Veronica quickly said. “Heather, please?” She clasped her hands together pleadingly. “You never have to speak to them again after this.”

Duke glanced at her, her stubborn expression finally faltering. Then, she let out a long-winded sigh.

“Like you said, I’d be complicit in leaving a kid with a shitty dad,” she grumbled. “I’m not _that_ cruel.”

Veronica squealed.

“Thank you!” She reached across the table and squeezed her hands.

“He owes me though. Or maybe you owe me,” she added.

“That’s fine!” She grinned at the group. “Thank you, I owe you all one.”

“Whatever,” Chandler said with a shrug. “We’re teenagers. Might as well live a bit.”

* * *

At 10:30 pm, Thursday night, the two opposing groups came together in a Seven Eleven parking lot. It was near-empty when they all gathered around the two parked cars.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Mara asked, followed by everyone giving her an odd look.

“We went over the plan, Heather,” Veronica replied.

“No, I mean _seating_ plan.” She pointed to the two cars. “Who’s going in what car?”

“My car’s for luggage,” Duke quickly said. “You’re all cramming in Heather’s car. Except for Em- _Heather._ ” She hooked her arm around Mara, who gave her a smile. Chandler just groaned.

“If you _insist_.” Chandler then side-stepped over to Veronica and tugged on her navy blue sleeve. “But you’re in the passenger’s seat.”

“Fine by me,” she said, batting her lashes at her. Chandler could only side-eye her, though the corner of her mouth did twitch a little.

“We get to ride in a Porsche?” Martha gasped excitedly. Betty patted her on the back.

“It probably smells like weed.”

“It does _not!_ ”

“I’m joshing you,” Betty said. “Mostly.”

“With that sorted, should we go?” Veronica said, glancing at her swatch. “JD will be expecting us.”

“I’d love to get this over with as soon as possible,” Duke said, before glowering over to Betty and Martha. Betty only rolled her eyes in disdain, before walking around to Chandler’s car and hopping in, with Martha sheepishly following behind.

“Can’t we get snacks first?” Chandler muttered, pointing to the store.

“No. Focus on the task at hand, Heather,” Veronica said, before letting go of her and running over to the car to hop in the front. There, she peered around her seat.

“Are you two definitely okay with this?” she asked. Martha gave her a smile and a nod.

“Sure! I mean, I’m quite nervous, but I think we’ll be okay-”

“I mean doing this with Heather.”

Martha’s smile dropped, but she still nodded.

“I don’t mind.”

“We don’t have any other option,” Betty muttered bitterly. “I do agree that we should get this over with as soon as possible, though.”

Veronica gave a sigh, biting her tongue as to not say anything that could lead into an argument. Now was definitely not the time, especially as Chandler had just hopped into her seat too.

“So, is it really a good idea to bring Dunnstock?” She asked, glancing in her mirror. “I wouldn’t want us to be slowed down.”

Veronica snapped her gaze to her, then lightly hit her on the arm. Chandler yelped in surprise, before turning on her.

“That’s my friend you’re talking about, remember?” she growled. “Don’t be rude.”

“I was only joking,” she muttered, rubbing her arm. Veronica rolled her eyes.

“It wasn’t funny. And stop pretending that hurt!”

“Well maybe it _did,_ ” Chandler huffed, before buckling herself in and starting up the car.

“It didn’t, or you would actually be mad at me.” She then glanced in the mirror. “Everyone got their belts on?”

“Yeah.

“Yep.”

“Betty, I hope you’re good with directions,” Chandler said.

“Well, yeah. I know the way from here.” She leaned forward. “Probably would have been more convenient to sit in front, but oh well.”

“It’s not that hard to tell me where to go from back there,” she retorted, before rolling down her window and leaning out of it towards Duke’s car. “Mac, tell Heather I’ll lead the way.”

“Okay!” Mara replied, before leaning over to Duke to give her the message. Then she turned back to Chandler. “She says ‘no shit’!”

And with that, the drive to JD’s house started, with thick tension already looming in the air. As much as Veronica wished the two opposing groups could just shake hands and get along, she knew that was terribly reductionist. So instead of waiting for something that wasn’t going to happen, she would keep looking behind her to start conversation, rather than isolating the back and the front.

“So! Did you do anything for New Years?”

“Not much! We just stayed up really late.”

Veronica chuckled fondly. “By ‘late’ do you mean 1am?”

“Not everyone has insomnia like you do, Veronica,” Betty quipped playfully. “Oh, take a left here.”

Chandler did so. Sort of.

“Heather, your indicator’s on right,” Veronica said. Chandler blinked, and subtly lifted her index fingers and thumbs off the wheel to make an ‘L’ shape with them. She then rolled her eyes, before changing her indicator, and didn’t say a word.

“What about you, Veronica?” Martha asked. “Do anything for New Years?”

Veronica opened her mouth to respond, but when she realised her response was hardly light-hearted at all, she closed it again. Fortunately for her, she was interrupted.

“There it is - the house at the bottom,” Betty said, pointing down the cul-de-sac. “There’s also a place to turn around down there, so maybe park so that you’re facing the right wa-”

“I was _going_ to do that,” Chandler snapped, slowing her driving all the way down the small road, with Duke doing the same behind them. Veronica gave a sigh

“Sorry about her. She’s very prideful in her driving.” She turned to her. “Despite it not exactly being graceful.”

“It’s more graceful than Heather.”

“I have to disagree.”

“Guys, stop flirting and get out the car,” Betty muttered, before stepping outside and shutting the door as quietly as she could. Martha did the same. Chandler only turned to Veronica, slightly stunned.

“ _What_ did she just say?”

Veronica grimaced. “She doesn’t actually know that we’re dating. I haven’t told her yet.”

She arched a brow. “ _Yet?_ ”

“I was going to ask you if it was okay first!”

Chandler just rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We’ll talk about it later.” She then stepped out the car, and Veronica followed. Outside the fairly worn-down, but still functional house, Duke and Mara were already waiting, with Duke’s eyes flickering everywhere around the area. Everywhere but her two other friends.

You know, in her diary, Veronica had written about her expectations for tonight. As crazy and stupid and ‘teenage-hijinks gone wild’ this whole idea was, she’d at least expected to have somewhat of a good time. There was fun in an adrenaline rush, afterall.

Right now, though, she knew the expectations she’d written for herself were not going to be met. All because she’d yet to have a chance to talk to Martha and Betty about Heather. And also Chandler was still a dick, the only difference being that she was dating her now.

 _At least Mara seems to be getting along with them._ She watched as Mara stood by Martha, sharing some sort of conversation with her. As the road was so quiet, she could vaguely hear what they were discussing from where she stood.

“You really didn’t need to!” Martha said with a smile. Mara dismissed the humility.

“I needed to do something, and you said rose quartz was your favourite gem.” She returned her smile. “I’m glad you like it though.”

“I do, it looks so pretty on my window sill!”

The friendliness brought a smile to Veronica’s face, but she didn’t get a chance to ask what they were talking about, as Betty was quick to call them over, down the side of the house.

The house was semi-detached, being the last one on the long row. As they walked around the unkempt garden with long grass and invasion of weeds, a window on the side came into view, the top of it covered by the leaves of a tree growing nearby.

“So, how are we telling him we’re here?” Duke asked.

“Throw rocks at the window? Veronica does that with me all the time,” Mara said, already scanning the ground for objects.

“No, no, no!” Betty held out a hand in front of Mara’s vision, stopping her. “We need to be as quiet as possible. We don’t want to wake his dad up.”

Before anyone could question another idea, Betty pulled out a tiny flashlight from her leather jacket, pointed it up at the window, and began to flash it. Six pairs of eyes were on the window, up until it finally opened. JD’s window was the sliding type, meaning he could throw his whole body through it without touching anything if he wanted to.

“Ah, my knights in shining armor,” he said with a flat tone, before looking at the Heathers. “Wait, what the fuck. Why aren’t they dolled up. They look human.”

“Excuse me?” Chandler barked. “This is a fucking _heist_. You really think we’re so stupid as to wear bright greens, reds and yellows?”

In fairness, Veronica could see where JD was coming from. Hell, she was dating two of them, and even _she_ thought it was a borderline paranormal sight to see Duke wearing a dark grey hoodie with black leggings, Mara with a black cardigan and dress, and Chandler wearing one of Veronica’s black, baggy jackets with a dark skirt and maroon top, all _outside_ , in _public._ She was fine with it though. Chandler wearing her jacket, even if it wasn’t her style at all, was an adorable sight.

“Yes,” JD replied. “You’re all form and no function. As shown by the black lipstick.”

 _Personally, I’m a fan of the black lipstick._ An unusual, yet alluring colour on Heather Chandler. For once she was glad that she was so extra that she felt the need to darken the makeup on her face.

“You know, I’m taking time out of my fucking evening to save your ass. You could at least give a _little_ bit of gratitude.”

“You’re right. I could,” he replied, followed by a drawn out silence, one that wasn’t broken until Chandler let out a disdained groan.

“Now, you gonna let us in or what?” Duke called. “I’m cold and I want this over with.”

“Right. About that.” JD grimaced. “So, good news, Big Dick Dean is asleep.”

“Perfect!” Betty said.

“Bad news, he’s asleep on the couch.”

“Fuck.”

“So?” Mara asked.

“I can’t risk bringing you all into my house. That means walking past the living room which, mind you, has no door.”

“But that was all part of the plan!” Martha said. “What are we supposed to do.”

“Eh, it should be fine,” JD said, before disappearing for a brief moment, and then reappearing again, this time his hands holding a pile of unfolded, dark-coloured clothes. “Hope you’re good at catching.”

“What?” Veronica said, before he launched the pile of clothes towards her. Some landed on her head, the rest in her hands instead of the muddy ground. Once she dragged the flannel off her face, she sighed with relief. “This could work, but don’t you have a back door?”

As she spoke, the weight on her hands was suddenly lifted. Duke had taken the pile and murmured quickly, “I’ll take these back to the car.”

“Better yet, couldn’t you have just packed everything in a suitcase and dropped it,” Chandler muttered.

“Nah, I needed to leave that in the den to make it extra convincing that I’m moving tomorrow.” He disappeared again, then reappeared. “Who wants my dirty clothes?”

“ _Not me,_ ” Chandler spat.

“Okay.”

He threw them at Chandler. It seems the only reason she caught them was because of automatic reflexes. As soon as they were in her hold, her face twisted up in disgust.

“ _Do you not know what a fucking washing machine is?_ ” She gagged and impatiently waited for Duke to return, to which she quickly did after having seen her repulsed expression. Clearly she was just being merciful towards Chandler, as she seemed no happier to hold them either.

“I was being nice giving you those.”

“ _Nice?_ ”

“I mean, unless you would _rather_ catch my boxers.” He held up a pile of them, unspecified as to whether they were clean or dirty. Just as he raised them in the air, ready to be thrown down at Chandler, Veronica felt herself being pulled backwards. She stumbled a little before gaining her balance, and as soon as she did, the boxers landed in her hands.

“Hey, why do _I_ have to hold them?” she griped, looking back at Chandler who still used her as a shield, as if the boxers could leap out at her at any minute.

“Because you’re vaguely attracted to him,” she said, before shoving her towards Duke’s car. “Now take them to Heather.”

“Uh, you’ll be _damned_ if you think I’m touching those,” Duke said. “Take them to the car yourself.” 

“Also, you never told me about that, Veronica.”

Heat suddenly flushed to her face as she dared to look back at JD, who held a curious grin.

“What can I say, I have a unique taste in men,” she grumbled, before hurrying back over to Heather’s jeep. In the trunk, Duke had somewhat folded the clothes and shoved them into a corner, and so she simply added to the growing pile, though made little effort to neaten them up. Then she ran back to the side of the house, passing Mara, who held a backpack which wasn’t entirely closed, due to the clothes inside overflowing. Ah. That’s why he was tossing random clothes down at them freely.

“How much stuff do you have to go?” Veronica asked.

“Clothes are almost done.” He held up what was probably the last pile. “Don’t worry about socks and shoes. They were in the bag.” He glanced at Martha. “Mind taking these to the car?”

Martha gave a nod and held up her arms, having to stumble forward as the clothes fell in order to catch them all. She managed, though, and hurried over to the car.

“Sorry to say, that was the easy part,” JD said, before disappearing again. There was some rustling, before he reappeared with another backpack. “I don’t want to drop this one.”

“What is it?” Mara asked, having returned from the car.

“Electronics. I have quite a few left over, but these are the ones I chose to save. Unless we’re able to get the others somehow.” He frowned. “I don’t know how I can get these down without breaking. This bag’s heavy.”

The group fell silent as they all tried to think. Veronica tried to come up with an idea too, even considering just going into JD’s house alone to grab it. _No, no, too risky._

Her gaze began to wander as she tried to think, up until her eyes landed on the leaves hanging just above JD. She let her gaze make its way down the branch and to the tree, then followed another branch back up to JD’s window. She grinned.

“Idea!” she exclaimed, followed by a harsh shush from Betty, who pointed to the house with a finger on her lips. “Sorry.”

“What is it?” Mara asked. Veronica said nothing, only pointed at the branch leading up to JD’s window. It seemed Mara caught on, as she shot her an impish grin.

“Wait there,” Veronica instructed, before darting towards the tree trunk. The speed allowed her to leap up higher, and her hand securely landed on the bottom of the branch. She grunted as she tried to haul herself up, but the branch was too thick and wet to securely grip onto. “A little help?”

“For the record,” she heard Duke say. “I think this is an awful idea.”

“You’ve seen me do it before,” she said, peeking down at her. “Now, give me a lift.”

“Uhh…” She saw her grimace as she tried to figure out what the best course of action would be, that is until she was interrupted.

“Just… let me do it.”

Duke’s expression suddenly became vexed, and Veronica could only watch as she made room for Betty. Veronica winced at the unpleasant interaction, but could do very little other than accept Betty’s help. As she felt a sudden surface appear under her feet, that being Betty’s shoulders, she was able to straighten herself up. Slowly, Betty raised her higher until she couldn’t make herself any taller, but by then, Veronica was able to loop a leg over the branch.

“Okay! Here I come,” Veronica announced, shuffling up the branch until she was confident enough to grab the branch hanging above her. As she used it to pick herself up onto her feet, she heard a panicked call from Chandler.

“Veronica, be careful, for fuck’s sake.”

By then, Veronica was walking along the branch on two feet. She gave a chuckle.

“I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

Chandler let out a scoff. “Hey, remember when you almost fell off Mac’s window and died?”

That memory suddenly flashing into her mind did make her pause, but she was able to shake it off.

“Chill. I would’ve only gotten a concussion.”

“ _And?_ ”

Veronica just rolled her eyes fondly, before squatting just before JD’s window, one hand still on the branch.

“Your electronics. Hand it over.” She stretched her arm out towards him.

“Be careful. It’s heavy.”

He was right. She didn’t expect her hand to be weighed down so much, but at least she didn’t drop it. She glanced back down the branch, and suddenly she realised just how difficult she’d made this heist for herself.

“Would anyone mind joining me on this branch?” she said with a sheepish smile.

Thank God Mara volunteered.

Or at least, that’s what she originally thought.

The thing is, everything was going just fine. They’d finally come up with a system: JD passes heavy or valuable belongings to Veronica, who then passes it down to Mara further down the branch, who then hands it over to Martha, who then passes it to Chandler. You’d think _that_ part of the chain is where the problems would occur.

Nope! They were being surprisingly civil. Hell, she was _sure_ she heard Martha giggle at some quip that Chandler said. It was kind of bizarre.

No, if you want to find any problems, look further down the chain. Betty had taken it upon herself to run across the yard with the belongings, and hand it over to Duke so that she could organise them in her car properly. Simple enough, right?

“What, it’s not in a bag?” Duke muttered as she was handed a pile of books.

“So?” Betty shot back.

“I was expecting to be passed something that they could sit safely in. Like a box? They’ll get crushed otherwise.”

“How’s that my fault?” Betty muttered. “Just put them in the front or something. I’m assuming you’ve got _some_ brain cells behind all that conditioner.” She glanced back at her. “Or did the curler you use burn them all up over time?”

Veronica cringed, almost dropping the small tub she had in her hand.

“Hey! Be careful with that,” JD scolded her, dragging her attention back to her post. “Those are my hormones.”

“Hormones?” Veronica asked, glancing at them.

“Testosterone. I need it for my transition.” She looked back up at him, and she saw, for the first time that night, a look of worry in his eyes. “They’re not cheap, and I’m technically going to be homeless. _Please_ be careful with it.”

Veronica looked back at the tub, then gave him a nod of reassurance. She shuffled back down the branch where she met Mara half way, and murmured a “Take extra care with this,” before moving back up again. Mara did what she was told, and seemed to pass on the message like a game of Chinease Whispers. Martha nodded, before doing the same with Chandler, who only gave her a confused and curious look, and even took a moment to observe the tub before handing it to Betty. She didn’t pass on the message, but clearly she didn’t need to, since Betty didn’t run this time.

She handed it to Duke, who also gave the tub an odd look. From the distance, she could see her expression change. She looked surprised, and seemed to do a double-take to JD. Clearly, she had recognised what was in the box, and it seems that Veronica wasn’t the only one to figure that out.

“Could you just put that away before any of your friends find out what it is?” Veronica had to lean forward to hear them, they were a little bit too distant. “And stop staring?”

“Calm your tits, I was just surprised,” Duke snapped, before searching for a place to put the tub. “Could you step off, now? You’ve made your point.”

Veronica hardly noticed herself pass on the next item, she was so invested in their conversation.

“I’m making sure you put them in a safe place.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Who knows what you’ll do?”

As their bickering continued, the next item reached Chandler, who turned around to find no one to pass it to. Irritation was evident in her tone.

“Hey, skinny version of Martha?” she called. “Do me a favour and spare me the journey.”

Betty slowly turned away from Duke, before hurrying over to Chandler and snatching it off of her.

“It’s a thirty second walk, if that,” she snipped. “I’m sorry that’s so hard for you.”

“I don’t _need_ to be here, you know,” Chandler retorted in a snide tone. Veronica let out a hiss of frustration. Things couldn’t fall apart _now_. They were going so well.

“Why did you put that on the _floor?_ ” She pointed at the tub from before, now on the floor just behind the trunk. Duke scowled.

“I was going to wait until I found a good place to put it.”

“You could kick it over.” Betty tossed the item she held in the trunk and picked up the hormones.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, you know,” Duke snarled. “And it’s not like I’d do that on purpose.”

“Sorry, I’m not convinced.” Betty crossed her arms and held her head up high, not that it was difficult to look down on Duke anyway. “It’s not like you’d ditch _real_ friends for popularity or anything.”

 _Yikes._ Veronica brought up a hand to her mouth and nipped the tips of her nails without even thinking.

“They _are_ real friends. They actually fucking talk to me.”

“Real friends wouldn’t view you as the poser that you are.”

 _Nope. Not happening._ Sucking it up, she turned to Chandler.

“Heather, catch me.”

Having been looking at the argument happening behind with intrigue, she took a moment to process what she said.

“Huh?”

“You stay up here, Mara. Heather, help me down.”

Chandler blinked at her. “As if I can fucking catch you. Jump from there and you’ll break your legs.”

It was then that Veronica caught the next comeback from her two bickering friends,

“Good thing you’re not my friend then, isn’t it?”

There was an underlying animosity in Duke’s tone, one that told Veronica that she needed to step in. She turned to Martha.

“Martha, catch me.”

Even though Martha gave an affirming nod, Chandler let out an amused snort, though she held back from commenting. Martha came to stand below the branch where Veronica sat, and as soon as she was ready, Veronica jumped.

Her feet were maybe two inches away from hitting the ground when Martha managed to latch onto her torso. She held her for maybe a second before putting her down.

“Thanks.” She patted Martha on the shoulder, disregarded Chandler’s startled look as she ran past and over to the car.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t bother with you,” she could hear Duke say, now in a harsh whisper. “Clearly I wasn’t missing much.”

“Clearly we weren’t missing much either,” Betty snapped, creating a small gap between her finger and thumb and gradually shrinking it. The gesture made Duke snarl, but before she could reply, Veronica grabbed Betty’s arm and pulled her away.

“You don’t believe that,” she said coldly. Betty seemed surprised to see her, and before she could respond, Veronica reached forward and grabbed Duke’s hand. The two of them protested, but she ignored them, dragging them away from the car and out of sight from the rest of the group, until they were standing on the overgrown lawn, next to a large window. Conveniently for her, the dimly lit street suddenly brightened with a flash, as the porch light above JD’s door switched on in noticing their movements.

“Both of you have to stop this,” she said, finally letting go and turning on them both. “ _Especially_ you.” She pointed at Betty, who gave an indignant squawk.

“ _Me?_ ”

“ _Yes,_ you!” Veronica scowled. “It was _your_ idea to bring Heather along. I’m starting to think you only did that to use it as an opportunity to attack her.”

“ _This_ is exactly why I didn’t want to come,” Duke hissed under her breath. Betty frowned.

“I didn’t! I needed a large car, and she was the only person who I knew - through connections - had one!”

“Yeah. _You_ were the one who wanted to bring her-”

“I never _wanted_ to-”

“So stop fucking complaining that she’s here! You _asked_ me to bring her. I’ve done that. _She’s_ taken time out of her own night to be here and put up with _you._ ”

“But-”

“This isn’t the fucking time to rant at her for moving on with her life in middle school. Either talk it out with her now, or do it later and suck it up until then.”

Betty scorned at the statement. “Sorry that I’m mad that she thought popularity was better than us,” she mumbled. Duke’s eyes lit up, blazing.

“I did _not!_ ” she barked. “I wasn’t trying to be popular! I was just trying to not be a _loner!_ ”

Betty looked unconvinced. “Then why not just come to us?”

“Because _someone else_ came to me first!” Duke pointed off towards the group, clearly gesturing towards where Chandler would be. “But clearly _I’m_ the one who should be apologising for not holding onto some childish wishes that we’d all reunite and make flower crowns again! I’m _so_ sorry that stupid little lonely, anxious me felt too intimidated to approach a group who might not even _recognise_ me. If you cared about me that much, you should’ve said hello to me before Heather did.”

Duke stood their, huffing furiously, while Betty stood still, a little stunned by her rant. Her mouth was open, but no words came out. Then, when she finally spoke, it was to Veronica.

“Let me guess. You’ve sided with her on this.”

Veronica frowned. “I just called it a silly misunderstanding between some socially awkward middle schoolers,” she said, before wrapping her arm over Duke’s shoulders protectively. “Either way, there is one thing I side with Heather on, and that’s moving on.”

Betty’s hardened gaze finally faltered.

“I’m not asking you two to shake hands, become friends and forget anything ever happened. I’m just asking you to put this behind you. Stop thinking about a past friend and think about your current one.” She gestured to JD’s house. “Even if it’s just for tonight.”

Betty bit her lip, her green eyes flickering back and forth in a conflicted manner. Then she opened her mouth, ready to speak, and as she did, a quiet click sounded, only audible due to the silence of the street. Betty’s eyes suddenly flashed open, now filled with terror.

“ _Shit!_ ” she gasped, before shoving both Veronica and Duke off towards the side of the house. Neither of them could protest, since she was already giving out orders in a panicked, yet hushed voice.

“Heather, close your trunk, _quick!_ ”

For the first time that night, Heather didn’t argue. She just dove to her car and slammed it shut, before following behind Veronica in a dazed attempt to escape… something.

“Betty, what’s wrong?” Veronica tried asking, but she was too busy with the rest of the group.

“Everyone hide, _now._ ” She gave one glance to JD, who gave an understanding nod, before shutting his window with the light in his room turning off soon after. Once JD was out of sight, Betty lunged for Martha’s hand and dragged her off into a nearby bush.

Veronica, however, needed to take a moment to gather her thoughts. Her first thought was to grab both Duke and Chandler and follow wherever Betty and Martha had hid, but she wasn’t able to fully map out that plan, due to a chippy voice from above.

“What’s going on?” Mara asked from the far end of the branch; too far for her to jump.

“I don’t know,” Chandler said.

“And I don’t care. Mara, get down!” Veronica whispered harshly. Mara quickly nodded, beginning to shuffle down the branch, when suddenly, a gate swinging open could be heard from somewhere in front of the house. It was then when Veronica understood, and a sickly feeling began to bubble in her gut.

_Keep it together._

“There isn’t time, Mara, just jump!” She darted forward so that she stood below the branch, then turned to Heather and Heather. “You two _hide_.”

“But-” they both protested.

“ _Now!_ ”

They shared a worried exchanged, but still obeyed, with Chandler gripping onto Duke’s hand and settling somewhere behind the tree. Veronica turned back to Mara, who stared at her doubtfully.

“I can’t jump from here,” she said.

“I’ll catch you.” There were footsteps on the pavement. “ _Quick!_ ”

Just as Mara leaned forward, ready to let herself drop into her arms, there was a voice, low and gruff.

“Who’s there?”

Veronica’s anxiety made her look behind her just as Mara fell, so when a weight crashed into her so suddenly, she wasn’t able to hold either of them up. She hit the ground, mud likely all over her clothes and a pain pounding in her head. It wasn’t even worth it, she hadn’t gotten a single glimpse at the newcomer. She didn’t get one for a while, with her head hurting and Mara’s weight on top of her, she was too dazed to look around. Eventually, though, her ears stopped ringing and footsteps became audible again. This time, they were loud. Far too loud.

“Now what do we have here?” the voice said again. “Not gonna lie, didn’t expect to see two lesbians near my backyard doin’ their dirty work.”

“Technically, I’m bisexual,” Veronica groaned, still a little out of it. She only realised how dumb it was to say that when Mara elbowed her arm, before finally picking herself up.

“That’s not what we were doing, sir,” Mara said, slowly clambering off Veronica. An odd thing about it was that she had her hands raised. Usually, she’d be gripping the hem of her skirt. She also realised her eyes were glued onto something. Curious, Veronica dared to lean her head backwards to try and spot what she was looking at.

Indeed she did, and when she did, she flipped over faster than a startled cat.

“Yeah, no, we weren’t doing that,” she added, also holding her hands up while she stared down the gun in the man’s hand. It wasn’t necessarily pointed at them, but it did hang in his grip, ready to be used. “Gross. Disgusting. I hate pussy.”

Now that she was on her knees, she was able to look up at the man who she could presume was JD’s father. She did in fact recognise him - she’d seen him on TV. But with the low lighting and the angle she kneeled at, he was suddenly fucking terrifying. Greying hair, uneven stubble and cold blue eyes - quite possibly the only feature from him passed down to JD - made Veronica’s hair rise.

“Well if y’all ain’t busy with that nasty business, what are ya doin’ on my property, eh?”

The gun swayed from side to side, from Mara to her. It’s all she could focus on.

“We were just…” Veronica glanced around in a panic, until her eyes landed on JD’s window. “We were coming to say goodbye to JD.”

Big Bug Dean remained silent.

“Yeah! We know he’s moving tomorrow, so we thought we should say goodbye one last time.”

As they fumbled with their explanation, movement from behind Big Bug Dean caught Veronica’s eye. While she continued to stare in his direction, she focused on what was happening in her peripheral vision. Martha seemed to be moving along the grass, towards the house, as quietly as she could. Having no idea what she could be doing, Veronica bit back the urge to yell, _“Martha, stop whatever it is you’re trying to do and hide.”_

But of course doing that was only more dangerous, so she kept her mouth shut.

“I see. I know what you’re planning here.” He used the gun to point to Veronica in particular, causing her to flinch away and her heart rate to spike. “Y’all had pretty dirty plans up your sleeve.”

“Dirty?” Mara echoed with confusion. Veronica cringed when she caught on.

“Sir… we were not planning on having a… um… threesome with your son.”

“I would hope not, since you seem to hate pussy so much.”

That statement made Veronica’s lip curl with fury, while Mara just stared at him, befuddled.

 _Great,_ she thought to herself. _Now_ all _the Heathers know he’s trans._

“Ignoring the fact that I am pretty open-minded,” Veronica said, “you… did not need to tell me that information about your son.”

“I needed a deterrent,” he replied. “Consider it a favour. Wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty with a degenerate.”

Veronica just couldn’t bite her tongue any longer.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she growled. “He’s my friend.”

“I can talk about him however I like.” The gun raised closer to her head, and while her heart was pounding, her blood was also boiling. Her gaze darkened as she stared up at him, ignoring the weapon being pointed at her forehead.

“Yeah, parents like to think they can do that,” she snarled, with her hands she held in the air clenching into fists. “But in actuality, their just setting themselves up for a real lonesome Thanksgiving. And _fast_ , because I can bet you your kid is gathering as much information as they can on how to move out.”

“Veronica, _shut up,_ ” Mara hissed under her breath. She stared at her with the most frightened and serious look she had ever seen on the girl, but it wasn’t enough to deter her.

“I’ve honestly had enough with parents treating their children like shit,” she continued. “No offense, sir, but you don’t deserve JD as a son.”

_Click._

Okay, that was enough to shut her up. That, and the gun being held properly, pointed in her direction. She clamped her mouth shut and chanced a glimpse at Mara, who was staring at her with a tearful, heart-broken gaze.

 _She thinks I’m going to die._ She swallowed thickly. Her and her big mouth.

“May I remind you that you’re on my property, ma’am?” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “And I’m the one holding the gun.”

Veronica opened her mouth to reply, but it was terribly dry, and she found no voice. She tried to lick her lips, but it seems all moisture had retreated to her eyes. Her hands were still clenched tightly, but they were beginning to shake.

“Please don’t hurt us,” Mara begged, her voice quivering. “We just wanted to say goodbye to our friend.”

“Bit too late for that, thanks to your friend here.” Cold metal grazed the skin on her forehead. Her breaths became shallow. Through her blurred vision, she could see he was looking back at her, paying no attention to Mara. “You wanna apologise before I have to call a goddamn ambulance?”

Veronica did want to speak again. She really did. She was going to fake the most genuine apology she could muster. But nothing was coming out.

And she was still struggling to breathe.

Not wanting to look at the gun anymore, her eyes drifted over to Mara, though when her head turned along with them, the gun was placed under her chin to turn her head back to Big Bug Dean, who barked at her to keep his eyes on him. Her eyes stayed stuck to Mara though, the one pleasant thing she could look at.

As she continued to stare at her, though she saw her hands making odd movements, and she was looking off elsewhere. Her vision was too foggy to make out her exact movements, but they definitely weren’t random. In her cluttered head, she tried to figure out what the fuck she was doing, until it finally hit her, when her two hands gestured down while staying flat, followed by her laying one arm over the other against her chest before parting them again.

 _She’s signing._ There was only one conclusion she could reach as to why. _Oh, God, what is Heather doing._

As though answering her question, she was able to catch the slightest movement behind Big Bug Dean. He was blocking her vision, but she knew Chandler was there, standing quietly.

“So?” he spoken again, pressing the gun against her forehead. “You gonna say anything?”

Veronica didn’t bother opening her mouth. She didn’t need to, because as soon as he said that, a large branch was risen into the air, before slamming into his temple. He toppled over, and as soon as he was on the ground, Veronica and Mara shot back onto their feet, being greeted by Chandler. She was tightly holding a branch with both hands, her icy gaze filled with rage and her chest was heaving.

So was Veronica’s.

“Oh my God, _thank you,_ ” Mara sighed with relief as she ran forward to embrace Chandler tightly, burying her face into her chest. Chandler held her close protectively, dropping the branch right away.

“I’m starting to think that beating up men threatening my friends is my forte,” she mused, staring at the man lying face down on the ground with pride. She then glanced back at Veronica. “Are you okay?”

Veronica hadn’t noticed herself cradling her chest with one hand as she tried to inhale more cleanly. She looked at Heather, and didn’t bother trying to talk. She only shook her head and let out a cough.

“Veronica, you are so fucking _stupid!_ ” Duke barked, stepping out from behind the tree. “What were you thinking?”

Veronica turned to her and gave her a ‘Really? You’re lecturing me about this _now?_ ’ look.

“In fairness, that scared the living shit out of me,” Mara added, giving her a glare.

Veronica frowned, before coughing again. This time, she was able to wheeze out a response,

“Lecture me later, I need my goddamn _inhaler._ ” She began to stumble towards the car, where she had (hopefully) remembered to leave it, but was stopped by Chandler holding out her arm in her path.

“You stay here. I’m not letting you walk.”

“Bu-”

“Nope.” She wrapped her spare arm around her and held her against her side. It was warm and comfortable, but it wasn’t enough to stop the buzzing in her head or her airways from closing up. “Someone run over and get the inhaler. Front of my car, the doors are unlocked.”

“‘Kay,” she heard Betty finally speak up from behind the bush, standing up and quickly rushing over to the car. If Veronica could let out a sigh of relief, she would.

“You pick great times to have an asthma attack,” Chandler muttered as she ran her hand up and down her back, fingers leaving a light trace of a soothing sensation behind.

 _Well_ I’m _sorry that being held at gunpoint makes me panic!_ is what she wanted to say. Instead, she just leaned into her neck and groaned.

“This heist is _not_ going well,” Duke said, about to step around the unconscious man lying in front of her. That is, before,

_BANG!_

* * *

Duke stumbled backwards and let out a horrified yelp, staring at the dirt mound in front of her, where a bullet had buried itself into. It was an inch, maybe less, away from her foot, before she had jolted away. The rest of the group had also yelled in shock, eyes stuck to the hand on the gun that was now moving.

From where she stood, she could see fresh, dark red blood trickling down the side of Big Bug Dean’s head, where the branch had hit. Despite the nasty-looking injury, he stirred. Chandler, Veronica and Emmy backed away, Chandler’s two girlfriends clinging onto her fearfully. Duke, however, remained standing still.

Soon enough, he was standing again, swaying a little. Clearly, he was dazed, but not down.

“More of you, eh?” he grumbled, looking around him. “Certainly not a farewell party now, is it?”

Before anyone could respond, a hairy, rough paw clutched around Duke’s wrist and dragged her forward. She yelled in protest, but it did nothing. Instead, the rest of the group just stared in horror as she was held in place, allowing the gun to point directly towards her. She could see it was wobbling. His grip on it wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t the right gun for this position - it was far too big. Regardless of the terribly flawed plan, it was still bringing her anxiety right up.

“When is it Heather’s turn to be held at gunpoint?” Duke muttered bitterly, looking at Chandler who scoffed at her.

“Like hell I am. I’m traumatised enough.”

“Quiet, Ching Chong,” he growled, tugging at her arm. All she could do was glare up at him, feeling a sudden wave of courage.

“My name is white enough to be shared with hers, 씨발놈아!” she hissed, pointing at Chandler.

“Heather, for the love of God, and I mean this with love,” Chandler said in a sweet tone. “ _Shut up._ ”

“But he’s being racist.”

“You have a fucking gun to your head.”

“Eh, I’m on the verge of death anyway.” She shrugged.

“I said _shut it,_ ” he repeated, tapping her cheek with the gun. She finally clamped her mouth shut the cold metal sending a shiver down her spine. “Now, what are y’all’s actual intentions here, huh?” The gun was shoved into her face again, ungracefully so.

No one said anything.

“You.” The gun hit her chin, and she yelped. “You said heist. What’s this heist here you’re plannin’?”

Duke bit her lip, staring at the rest of the group for answers. They could only exchanged nervous glances. Apart from Veronica, who was bending over to cough. Duke was able to catch her eye with some effort, gesturing for her to stand up straight. Veronica gave a thankful smile, before doing so. Relief flooded Duke, or at least, as much relief as she could find from this situation.

“Speak up. I don’t want things to get ugly.” The gun dug into her temple, and she saw Emmy’s eyes widen.

“Robbery!” she blurted out. Everyone stared at her in dismay, including Duke. But regardless, she carried on with it.

“We… um… we didn’t realise you hadn’t moved house yet,” she said, stepping out of Chandler’s hold. “We were gonna take the leftover furniture and use it for a party we have coming up.” She swallowed. “We were gonna bring it back… if it didn’t get damaged.”

In fairness… it was a believable story. One that made them look like actual criminals, sure, but it was an effective cover-up, as well as making them look like a load of stupid fucking teenagers. Which was accurate.

“At least one of ya spoke up,” he muttered. “A shame she did, though. Don’t think I’m gonna let a crime like that slide.”

“I feel like this should be counted as a crime,” Duke said dryly, pointing at the gun pressed against her head. She had managed to remain mostly calm, though, that is until she heard a click. Fuck.

“No, no, please don’t do anything to her,” Emmy said desperately. “We’ll just go, and we’ll never come back here.”

“Somehow I don’t believe a word comin’ out your mouth.” The gun digging into her skin was beginning to hurt.

“If anyone is gonna kill her, it’s gonna be _me,_ ” Chandler said, her tone also having a slight edge to it, with her eyes widening at her. Seeing her scared only raised Duke’s anxiety.

“What about you?” Big Bug Dean nodded to Veronica, who had a hand on her heaving chest. “Got anythin’ to say?”

Veronica let out a cough, before opening her mouth in an attempt to reply.

“Let her go.”

That wasn’t Veronica’s voice.

The three girls looked behind her, then scattered to the side, revealing Betty standing not too far away, but far enough that she had to raise her voice. Her stance was firm, her back was straight, and her hands tightly held a pistol. A closer look was all it took to see that they were shaking ever so slightly, but the gun still stayed in the air, pointing right at Big Bug Dean. Usually, she would have loved to come up with some sort of insult about her quivering hands, but right now, she could not be more fucking relieved to see her.

A sentence she thought she’d never say.

“Jesus H Christ, how many of you are there?” he muttered.

“Did you not hear me?” Betty stepped closer. Her voice cracked a little. “I said to let her go.”

A low, haughty laugh rumbled in his throat.

“Betty Finn’s your name, ain’t it?” he asked. “Should’ve guessed my _son_ could only ever make no-good friends.”

Betty shrugged. “I’d call myself a pretty good friend, actually.” Her eyes then drifted over to Heather, and suddenly a hint of remorse shimmered in them. “Usually.”

Duke couldn’t help but widen her eyes, wondering if she was reading too much between the lines. _Is she_ actually _considering apologising?_

“I don’t see what you’re gonna achieve by pointing that tiny gun in my direction,” he said. “You shoot, so do I. Only I actually have a target.” Duke suddenly felt a hand latch around her wrist and pull it behind her back until it stung. She hissed in pain.

“You can’t shoot her if I shoot first,” Betty said, taking another step forward.

“Betty,” Emmy suddenly spoke up, grimacing. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

Betty blinked at her.

“I mean… I am actually very anti-gun,” she muttered. “I’ll let you figure out what that entails.”

“Fuck,” Duke muttered. “I’m gonna die.”

“No you won’t!” Betty said, now holding the gun with one hand, towards Big Bug Dean, but looking right at her with a stern gaze. “I’m not letting that happen. I brought you all here, and I’m not leaving anyone behind.” Her gaze softened. “Not even you.”

Heather blinked at her in surprise. In spite of her pounding heart that was beginning to _hurt_ , it was beating so fast, she could still feel it warm up when hearing the statement. Though the chances felt incredibly slim, she somehow believed that she wasn’t going to be left behind. Not again.

“That was your first mistake, my dear,” he growled, and Duke felt the gun shift against her.

Betty suddenly smirked. “No. _Your_ first mistake is assuming I’ve never held a gun.” The gun tilted downwards ever so slightly. The movement was hard to catch. “I’ve known your son for two years, you fucking idiot.”

Then there was a bang. Duke expected everything to stop in that moment, that everything would go black, and that was it. And for a few long, drawn-out seconds, it did.

That is, until she opened her eyes. She looked down at her feet, and saw the larger gun. There was a bullet hole in the long barrel. There had been only one gunshot.

No bullet hit anyone’s flesh. She was safe.

Unfortunately, so was Big Bug Dean.

She looked to her side, and saw he was standing a few feet away from her, staring down at the gun. His eyes were blazing. His foot stomped when he stepped towards his weapon.

And that’s all she saw, because someone grabbed her before she could stay and watch anything else happen. She looked forward, and saw that Betty had grabbed her wrist and was pulling her along, sprinting across the grass and over to the car. Chandler, Emmy and Veronica were doing the same.

“Your inhaler’s on your seat, Veronica,” Betty yelled. Veronica, wheezing as she ran, gave her a nod. Then Betty turned to Duke.

“Just drive,” she told her. “Everything’s set. We got everything in the cars. Just drive as fast as you can.”

Duke stared at her, wanting to blurt out something along the lines of a thank you, but soon enough, she was already dashing to Chandler’s car. When she dared to look back, she knew why. Big Bug Dean already had his weapon in his hand, and while fidgeting with it to view the damage, she knew she didn’t want to stick around to see if it still worked.

Everything happened so quickly after she turned back around. She’d never gotten into her car so quickly before. Waiting for her inside was Emmy, who had already fastened her seatbelt. Martha was also in her car this time. Why exactly that was, she didn’t care right now. All that was going through her head was,

 _My ex-friend just saved my life._ She let herself breathe as soon as she hit the pedal.

_Thank God she did._

* * *

Martha’s seat had been swapped and given to JD, who was seated next to Betty. Heather didn’t pay too much heed as to why the change was made, she just started the engine up as quickly as she could and slammed her foot on the pedal. Her car darted forward, and with a quick glance in the rear-view mirror, she saw Duke’s was doing the same, which gave her some relief.

Next to her, Veronica was using her inhaler to clear her throat. Her breaths were becoming less raspy thanks to it. Okay, good.

Their drastic escape was going smoothly. That is, until she looked in her mirror to steal a quick view of the back seat.

JD, who had escaped the house whilst the commotion had went down, was being very quiet. She thought he’d be over-joyed that the plan had managed to work, even if it was thinly. But he didn’t look happy. His gaze seemed to be foggy, and he was hunched over a little, in an uncomfortable, disturbed manner. Somehow, it looked familiar.

“It’s okay, JD,” she heard Betty murmur behind her. She couldn’t look at them for any longer, needing to keep her eyes on the road ahead. “You got out. You’re okay.”

JD didn’t respond. Next to her, Veronica straightened herself up and looked in the mirror.

“Is he alright?” she asked in a hoarse voice. “He looks a little… off.”

Before anyone could say anything, a gunshot sounded from somewhere behind them. It sounded distorted and wrong, and Heather could take a guess that Big Bug Dean had attempted to fire his damaged weapon. It likely didn’t go to plan.

In spite of the fading sound, however, a new, louder one took it’s place.

“No, no, _no, no!_ ”

She heard JD chant behind her, his voice shaky and nervous.

“JD, it’s okay!” Veronica said, her voice still raspy. “His gun is broken. He didn’t hit anyone.”

“What Veronica said,” Betty said, followed by a pause. “JD, stay with me.”

She didn’t hear anything from JD as she sped out of the neighbourhood. All she could do was glance in the mirror out of morbid curiosity.

Betty had shuffled as far along the seat as she could with a seat belt on, and had one arm around JD who curled up into her hold. His curly black hair covered most of his face, so his expression was beyond her. She could, however, see him gripping his trenchcoat tightly, knuckles white, and legs bouncing frantically with heels thumping against the floor.

And she couldn’t stop staring,

“ _Heather!_ ”

Veronica barking her name caused her to snap her head back towards the road, and she saw a red light up ahead. She slammed on the brakes just in time.

“Are you okay?” Veronica asked, her voice gradually becoming more smoother.

“Fine. I’m fine.” She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Even when she did, though, he eyes trailed back to the mirror. “I’m… I’m just…” She broke her gaze away and looked over to Veronica. “I’m shaken up. I just watched all of my friends be held at gunpoint. Why the fuck would I be okay?”

Veronica blinked at her, a glint of suspicious visible in her gaze.

“Are you sure you can drive?”

“ _Of course I’m sure!_ ” she snapped, before turning around. “Is he like… alright?”

Betty frowned. “Not really.”

Dare she ask.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Betty hesitated. She knew the answer, Heather could tell, but she was biting it back. It was obvious as to why - she wasn’t supposed to trust someone like Heather Chandler with her friend’s secrets.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to use it against him.”

As Heather began to drive again, Veronica also turned around.

“I do actually want to know if he’s okay,” she added.

Betty let out a sigh. “He’s… he will be fine soon. He’s just not right now.” A glance in the mirror. She was holding his hand tightly. Veronica had done something similar with her before.

“Hey, JD?” Veronica asked, reaching out to him with an open hand. “You still with us?”

There was no response, only a whimper from him.

“I can’t be entirely sure, but I think he’s having a flashback.” Betty’s expression was twisted with worry. “Hearing those gunshots before already put him on edge. Fucking perfect that his dad had to fire another one.”

“Shit, of course. He has PTSD.” Veronica bit her lip with worry.

 _Oh. I forgot about that._ Heather stared ahead, thinking back to that conversation. That is, until a hand gripped hers and snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Heather, are you sure you’re okay?” Veronica asked. “You nearly drove onto the pavement.”

Heather blinked at the wheel, and saw that Veronica was controlling it with her own hand as best she could from her seat.

“I…” She was about to respond, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to the mirror again.

 _I’m being ridiculous._ She swallowed. _I don’t actually act like that._

“Heather!”

“Huh?”

She was met with a stern gaze from Veronica.

“Let me drive. You keep zoning out.”

Heather frowned. “You can’t drive.”

Veronica shrugged. “Legally, no. But we’re driving home from a heist. Me not having a driver’s license is the least of our worries.”

Heather looked at her doubtfully.

“I promise I won’t crash your Porsche,” Veronica said. “I’m trying to stop _you_ from doing the same.”

She took a moment to think, and after some consideration, and looking at the third hand on the wheel, she gave in. She pulled over so that they could swap seats, with Chandler begrudgingly buckling herself into the passenger’s seat.

“You were held up at gunpoint,” she muttered. “You should be the one who’s shaken up.” She bit the inside of her cheek. _Why am I so shaken up?_

“My asthma acting up was scarier than the gun,” Veronica said, her tone light. “Now, where exactly are we going?”

“Originally it was my house, but if you don’t mind, could you pull into 7/11?” Betty said.

“Usually I’d ask why, but I am down for getting snacks after _that_ ,” Veronica said with a sigh as she started up the car. “How about it, Heather, you want any corn nuts?”

Heather could only stare at her mirror, especially now that she didn’t have to look at the road ahead.

“Sure.”

* * *

“Question, why are we in a 7/11 parking lot?” Duke questioned as she stepped out of her car. “More than anything, I’d like to fall into bed and take a seventeen hour long nap.”

Veronica chuckled. “You and me both.” She glanced in the car. “Is Mara okay? And are _you_ okay?”

“Well, it took a while, but my hands finally stopped shaking.” Duke held up her hands as she walked over to Veronica. “I think the shock has passed. And yes, Emmy’s fine.” She glanced back to the jeep and chuckled. “She was frightened for half the ride, but then Martha handed her JD’s hamster and she won’t stop gushing over it.” She then lowered her volume to whisper, “Between you and me, I did not expect Martha to have the balls to walk into JD’s house while his dad was outside doing all that shit. She brought down all sorts to the car without him noticing!”

Veronica widened her eyes, suddenly understanding why Martha had snuck away from the scene before. “She did?” She laughed. “Holy shit, Martha committed home invasion.”

“She did.” Duke snorted. “But seriously, why are we here instead of home, and why were you driving Heather’s car?”

“She got a little… shaken up.” She looked off to the store, where both she and Betty had disappeared. “ I offered to buy her snacks, but then she was like, _‘no, I can buy my_ own _snacks._ ” She rolled her eyes. “If she seems off, don’t question her about it. She won’t give you an answer.”

“Noted.” Duke then looked over to the small wall that surrounded the parking lot, specifically to where JD had hunched over on it like a crow scanning the ground. The only difference was that his eyes were too fogged up to be focused on anything. “Is your friend okay?”

“He’s… better?” She shrugged. “The gunshots didn’t do him any good, but the fresh air has made him feel better, at least. I offered to sit with him, but he said he was okay to be alone.”

“Ronnie!” Veronica lifted her head up at a sudden chirp, and she saw Mara running around Duke’s car with a small cage in her hands. “Do you wanna see JD’s hamster? He’s adorable!”

“She,” JD suddenly spoke up, his voice hoarse.

“Oh! She.” Mara lifted up the cage, revealing the black ball of fluff rummaging around.

“She’s adorable!” Veronica squealed, while Duke also leaned forward to get a closer look. “What’s her name?”

“Jack the Ripper,” JD said from where he sat. Everyone turned to stare at him blankly. He sighed. “Bradley for short.”

“Wh-” Duke blinked. “Why not just _Jack._ ”

“That’s stupid. Where’d you get that idea from?”

Before anyone could respond, Betty suddenly walked by them, a cold coke slushie in one hand and a bag of doritos in the other.

“Is Jack the Ripper doing good?” Betty asked Mara as she passed her.

“Yeah, she’s um… doing great.”

“I’m sorry, _who’s_ doing great?” Chandler suddenly cut in, also having returned from her trip to the store. As expected, she had bought corn nuts, as well as a pack of cigarettes.

“Jack the Ripper the hamster,” Mara said, pointing to the long-haired rodent. “Isn’t she cute?”

“But…” Chandler blinked at it. “Why not just _Jackie?_ ”

“Where are you even getting these names from, I don’t get it,” JD said dryly from his spot on the wall. Veronica glanced back over to him, and saw Betty handing him the slushie.

“There. You wanted coke, right?”

JD gave a nod as he took it from her, then eagerly gulped down a large fraction. She could tell a freezing wave hit him very suddenly, and Veronica couldn’t help but wonder how that was going to make anything any better.

“Is it helping?” Betty asked. JD nodded again.

“Yeah, um…” He rubbed his temple. “Yeah, I can actually think now.” Just then, the back door to Duke’s car opened, and Martha stepped out, holding a box with three holes poked in the sides. “Oh, hey, is Mikey doing okay?”

Martha nodded and smiled. “He’s fine. I think he just misses his tank.”

“He’ll be back in it soon enough,” Betty said, peeking inside the box. “There’s room in the spare room for that.”

“With Earth!” Martha said happily.

“Yeah, with Earth. They’ll be best friends.”

“Cool. Mikey finally gets the boyfriend he deserves.”

Curiosity overcame Veronica, and she left the Heathers to join the group.

“I came here for Mikey. I want to see Mikey.”

Betty and Martha both giggled, before Martha lifted the lid for Veronica. Inside, a tiny gecko, yellow with black spots all over his body. Having never seen a gecko in real life, the sight was fascinating.

“I love him!” she squealed.

“He’s adorable.”

“You saved him!” Veronica said, looking back at Martha. “You’re really brave, sneaking into his house like that.”

Martha gingerly smiled, averting her gaze. “It was that, or we’d have to leave them behind.” She looked back down at Mikey. “And how could I do that to him? Look at his little face.”

Indeed, Mikey had an adorable face. His mouth was stretched in a smile, and his eyes were filled with so much emotion, and yet no emotion at all.

“Hi, hello, I’m here for the gecko,” Duke’s sudden voice surprised Veronica, along with her pushing her to the side to peek in the box. “Holy shit, I’m in love.”

“Paws off, that’s my gecko,” JD said. His voice had become a lot more clear, almost as if he had switched off autopilot and stopped his voice from sounding so hollow.

“I really like him too!” Mara chipped in, peering inside the box. “He looks like Bubblez.”

“Bubblez?” Martha asked.

“My um…” Veronica watched with amusement as Duke attempted to _interact_ with Martha. “My axolotl.”

Martha’s eyes widened and she gasped. “You… you have an _axolotl?_ ”

Veronica chuckled to herself as she watched the combined group from the outskirts. The sight of seeing the two cliques mix was strange, and it’s not like they were making the best colour ever. It was more like when you put two different paint brushes in an already paint-stained cup of water and watching as a bunch of bright flashy colours swirl around some darker, desaturated ones. Hell, were they even the same type of paint?

“Heathers would be oil paints… my other friends are watercolours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chandler asked from next to her. Veronica, realising she’d said that out loud, giggled sheepishly.

“Nothing.” She then looked over to her, and saw her gaze was tired. “Do you feel okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” She bit down on a corn nut without looking her way. “I can drive myself home, by the way.”

An idea came to Veronica’s head, and she fluttered her lashes at her.

“All by yourself?” She gazed at her sweetly. “Don’t suppose you’ll want any company?”

Chandler blinked at her, before rolling her eyes fondly. “Sure, whatever. So long as you don’t drag me out of bed early tomorrow morning. Like hell I’m going to school after all _that._ ”

Veronica scoffed. “Oh, no, I’m not going to school either. I doubt any of us are. Even Martha.” She gestured to her. “Right, Martha?”

“I think I can make an acception for attendance tomorrow,” she replied.

“We all are,” Betty groaned. “Especially JD and I. We’ll need to unpack all his belongings.” She glanced around the group. “Anyone else wanna help with that?”

“I might be able to,” Martha offered, while everyone else stayed silent.

“We’ve done our part. This is all on you now,” Duke said, stepping backwards. Somehow, it was a reminder that this alliance they had was going to be over in mere hours, if that.

She was going to miss it.

“Well, at least help me carry some stuff from Heather’s car into yours, so she doesn’t have to bring her car down my road.” She glanced at Chandler. “Mind if I grab that stuff out your trunk?”

Chandler arched a brow. “Well, I don’t fucking want it, do I?”

“Yeah, I picture you to be the type of person who keeps sentimental framed photographs. Sorry for the misunderstanding,” Betty snarked, before walking over to the trunk of the Porsche. Veronica couldn’t help but snicker as she nudged Chandler with her elbow. She only looked away gingerly.

“If only she knew,” she whispered. “Anyway, I should go help her.”

“Uh-huh. Make it quick, I wanna get back soon.”

Veronica nodded, then walked over to Betty. There wasn’t much inside the trunk - just a singular bag, along with the two animal tanks that Martha must have shoved into somewhere with more space, having had no time to rearrange anything to make them fit.

“I’ll toss this in the front,” Betty said, looping the bag over her shoulder. “You help me carry this tank to Heather’s car.”

“Will do.”

They both lifted it up fairly easily, though Veronica walking backwards with it was more tricky.

“Mind making a path for us, guys?” she asked as she stumbled over to the other trunk.

“You need help there?” Duke asked, eyeing the two of them. Veronica nodded, and so Duke walked over to her car and lifted up the trunk for them. In seeing it was basically full, they frowned.

“Hmm. Okay, wait there.”

Duke walked around to her back seats, while Veronica and Betty set the large hamster cage down on the ground. Eventually, Duke returned with more luggage, tossing it into the trunk.

“You’re usually so neat,” Veronica commented, glancing at the carelessly thrown items.

“I’ve had a rough night. All I want is to go _home_.” She thoughtfully hummed. “Then again, I don’t want to deal with my family. Maybe I’ll just stay at Emmy’s overnight so they don’t question why I refuse to get out of bed on a school morning.”

“Good plan,” Veronica chuckled. Then, as she looked to the side, she saw Betty was keeping distance from them both, staring off elsewhere. She appeared tense.

“Hey,” Veronica then said. “You two sort this one out, I should be able to carry the other tank myself. It isn’t as big.”

Duke’s eyes suddenly flashed with alarm. “But, shouldn’t you-”

“I’ll be right back!” Veronica hurried away from the car, leaving them both alone, and made sure to take her time lifting the second tank, Granted, it was quite a difficulty anyway. While she could lift it due to it being tall rather than long, it was heavier without Betty’s assistance, so she had to fumble with her grip for a while until she got a firm hold.

It was worth it, though, because when she slowly made her way back to Duke’s car, she saw Betty and Duke were standing closer than they were before. Not huddled like Veronica was with Duke, but still a closer proximity than either would usually like.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she heard Betty say. “I did what I would have done for any of you. I wasn’t gonna let anyone be shot in the head.”

“You know, I guess you don’t owe me anything,” Duke replied. “As you were the one who owed me something. You know, since I didn’t have to come here.”

Sarcasm was evident in her tone, but Veronica could pick up on no malice. Just teasing.

“Yeah, I guess.” Betty shrugged. “But in fairness… it’s my fault his dad woke up.”

“Your fault? How?”

“If… if I hadn’t spent the night arguing with you, we wouldn’t have been pulled aside and turned that goddamn porch light on, and… yeah.” She sighed. “I should’ve kept with the plan. Stayed focused. I shouldn’t have took it as an opportunity to argue with you.” She paused. “Veronica was right.”

Duke’s expression was the only one Veronica could see from where she stood, and from what she saw, her gaze softened.

“She was,” Duke agreed, as did Veronica, internally.

“And… um…” Betty spoke again, shifting uncomfortably. “This… this isn’t me saying that I like you, or that you’re my friend. But… about what you said before. I know we didn’t get much time to talk about it or anything, but how about we just… put it behind us.” That last bit was a mumble.

“I already have,” Duke said. “That was my point. I don’t care about some dumb misunderstanding from middle school. You were right with one thing, in that I moved on from you. I just didn’t do it out of a desire to be popular. That part wasn’t intentional.”

“Sure. Either way… _I’m_ willing to put it behind me,” Betty said. “Again, we’re not friends. I don’t like you still. I don’t like any of you, except for the blonde one. She can live.”

Duke arched a brow, listening intently.

“But I will… target you less. I’ll treat you less like an ex-friend, and more like a Heather.” She held out her hand. Duke gazed at it for a while with uncertainty. Then, she slowly raised her own hand, and shook it briefly. It could have been friendlier, but what she got made Veronica smile.

“Hey, where am I putting this?” she said, causing the two of them to jolt away from each other in surprise.

“Oh, um… the backseats,” Duke replied. “I’ll just show you…”

* * *

“What time should I come help you all tomorrow?” Veronica asked. Betty shrugged.

“Anytime you want. We’ll be in the house all day.”

“Then maybe later we can have a movie night!” Martha suggested happily. Veronica chuckled and nodded.

“That would be… much needed.”

“Exactly.” Martha smiled. “I’ll bring some brownie ingredients. They always relieve tension.”

“You better make them extra gooey.”

“Obviously. How else would I make them?”

JD raised his hand. “Actually, I prefer crunchie brownies.”

The three of them stared at him with dismay.

“What the fuck?”

“Ew.”

“I don’t understand.”

Then the group laughed together.

“Thank you for helping us, Veronica,” Betty then said, her tone thick with emotion. “And getting the extra help we needed.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” She looked at JD, who, despite his earlier episode, had been acting a lot calmer after a slushie and some snarky remarks thrown in the Heathers’ direction. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“And I’m glad you’re okay!” Martha said, placing a hand on her arm. “We’re so sorry you ended up having a gun pointed at your head.”

Veronica blew it off. “I’m turning eighteen real soon. What’s wrong with living a little before adulthood, am I right?”

“By almost _dying?_ ”

“It makes more sense in my head.”

“Still,” JD spoke up. “Thanks.”

Veronica smiled at him. She smiled at all three of them. That is, before they all moved forward for a group hug, one that wasn’t planned, nor needed to be. It was as though after a night of excitement and anxiety, they all just needed a bit of contact, especially with the cold air surrounding them.

They parted after a few seconds.

“Well, see you guys tomorrow, hopefully,” Veronica said with a smile, stepping away from Betty and JD, who stuck by Duke’s jeep. “Martha, you’re with me.”

“I am indeed.” She waved at them both. “See you!”

Veronica cast a glance back to Betty and JD, specifically Betty, who was sheepishly waving back to Martha. Then they parted ways, walking back to their respective vehicles.

“You get settled in the back,” Veronica told her friend. “I’ll tell Heather we’re ready to go.”

“Which Heather?”

“Yes.”

She let Martha hop into Chandler’s car, while she walked around it to find the trio huddled together, having a quiet conversation.

“Are you ready to go?” Veronica asked, cutting in.

“Thank _God,_ ” Chandler groaned. “I’m tired and I want to _leave._ ”

“Me too,” Mara added. “This has been… eventful, and all, but I really want to curl up in some blankets.”

“And me?” Duke asked with a smile. Mara giggled.

“And you.”

“And not me,” Chandler muttered.“You can come to my house if you want,” she offered. Chandler shook her head.

“I won’t _interrupt_ whatever you two have going on.” She gestured to her and Duke. “It’s fine. I have my Veronica.”

Veronica’s heart fluttered at the statement.

“Heather!” she gushed. “You’re too sweet.”

Probably having realised what she had just said, Chandler shrank into her shoulders while the colour of her cheeks darkened.

“Whatever. We ready to go?” she grumbled. Before anyone could agree to leave, however, Veronica leaped on the three of them for a hug. They all squeaked in surprise.

“What’s this for?” Duke asked.

“For helping,” Veronica said. “Thank you. None of you had to do it, but you did. It means a lot to us.” She smiled at them all. “I know tonight hasn’t been easy, but it’s all the more reason to be thankful.”

The three of them looked a little taken aback by her kind words, but regardless, they accepted the gratification. Chandler especially.

“I’m sure they can make it up to us,” she said, before giving a sigh. “Besides… it was kind of exciting.”

“Yeah!” Mara agreed. “Scary, but exciting!”

“I almost died, but okay,” Duke said. Veronica only laughed.

“I’m really glad you all came with us,” she said, biting down on her tongue so that she wouldn’t let any more slip out,

 _And I really liked seeing you all get along._ She looked longingly to Duke’s car, seeing JD and Betty talking amongst themselves through the window. _But now there are no strings attached. Everyone goes their separate ways, don’t they?_

“Now, I better hop in the back with Martha,” Mara chipped. “I’ll see you soon, Dewdrop!” She tapped the end of Duke’s nose as a replacement for a kiss, before contently walking around to the back of Chandler’s car. Veronica felt her lips curl happily.

 _Maybe some strings will stay attached, at least._ She glanced at Duke and Chandler. _I’m okay with that. I can’t expect things to ever be peaceful with them._

“We going then?” Veronica asked.“

Yep.” Chandler nodded, making her way to her door. “See you at some point.” She waved goodbye to Duke, who did the same back.

“Yeah. See you both.”

Veronica followed Chandler to her car, hopping in the passenger’s seat while Chandler settled into her own. Duke was soon enough in her own car, and ended up starting up her engine first. Eventually, she drove out of the parking lot, leaving the rest of them behind. Wondering what was taking so long, she looked back at Chandler, and saw that her eyes weren’t on her wheel or her ignition key. They were staring off into the distance, her gaze unreadable.

“Heather?” Veronica asked. “Is something wrong?”

Chandler blinked slowly, and her eyes finally snapped away from the road and to her own car again.

“No,” she faintly replied. “Everything’s fine.”

Veronica frowned at her, the flat tone failing to relieve her of her doubt.

“Are you sure?”

Heather’s blank gaze cracked a little, her brows furrowing and her eyes growing cloudy. All of it contrasted with her answer.

“I think so.”


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's been bothering Heather Chandler since the heist. She goes looking for answers, even though she's not sure if she wants to find them.

The morning air was chilly, Heather noted. The sky was grey and little sun managed to seep through them and turn her grey surroundings into something bright.

After a pretty restless night of unsettling dreams, she had woken up with a craving for a latte, in hopes that it might wake her up a bit and bring her back into the real world, to escape whatever anxiety-inducing images her brain liked to create while she slept. 

Veronica had opted to sleep in instead of accompanying her on her short trip to 7/11, which she couldn’t blame her for. This trip would be short, she had told herself. Just get a latte, some snacks, and then get back.

As she walked through the parking lot, memories of last night came back to her. Specifically her discomfort in watching JD’s flashbacks happening inches behind her. She just couldn’t get it out of her mind. Not because it had disturbed her in any way, but because it  _ hadn’t _ . She’d recognised every bit of his behaviour; that is what had caused her anguish.

Again, she shook the thought away as she stepped inside the store and made her way over to the coffee machine. As though she were on autopilot, she ordered her latte and watched as it poured into her cup, not moving until it was completely filled. After shoving the lid on, she took a stroll around the store while stealing sips of the drink she had yet to pay for (she was paying for it anyway, so whatever), and randomly picked up the odd snack that caught her eye.

_ Since when did they have chocolate-covered espresso beans? _ Heather blinked at the small packet, before shrugging and adding it to her handful of snacks.  _ Veronica will appreciate them. _

With one hand holding a latte and the other unable to pick up any more snacks, she figured she should stop and pay. She made her way around the aisle towards the cashier, though when she turned the corner, she paused.

From where she stood, she watched as JD, who had just materialised out of nowhere, made an exchange for his own drink. A slushie. Of-fucking-course. The payment was quick, and he was gone almost as quickly as he appeared. Heather had to blink a few times to make sure her mind hadn’t just played a stupid trick on her.

But no, the door did indeed open as he left. He was there.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but she had a sudden urge. She darted down the aisle and quickly paid for her items, before grabbing them and hurrying back out of the store. She looked around the parking lot, and sure enough, she hadn’t missed him. Except, she sort of had.

His motorcycle that hadn’t been there when she first arrived was still there, but he wasn’t on it like she had expected. In fact, he wasn’t even in the parking lot.

Shaking the thought off, she scoffed at herself and made her way back to her car, trying to take her mind off of him.

That is, until she opened her car door to throw her snacks on her seat, because that’s when she heard rustling of leaves and twigs.

She snapped her head back to the store. That’s where the noise had come from. Unsurprising, as the old store had a patch of woods just behind it, with very little security preventing people from exploring it. She likely wouldn’t have been able to hear anyone walking around back there, had it not been for the fact that both the parking lot and the whole street was empty.

_ Except for one person, _ she thought, turning back around towards the store.

Then she turned back to her car. Leave it. She was being ridiculous. The heist was over, she didn’t need to talk to that lone wolf ever again.

And yet, when she tried to step inside the car, the urge to look behind her overcame her. She stared at the bundle of trees, biting down on her lip.

Then she slammed her door. Without getting in. Digging her nails into her cup, she spun around and marched over to the woods, scowling at herself as she did so. This was a stupid idea.

_ Whatever. There’s no one around anyway. _

She slid down the side of the store and was met with a crumbling brick wall, which she easily stepped over, even in heels. On the other side, her shoes crunched down on fallen, dead leaves, along with stray sweet wrappers. In getting a closer look, the patch of woods was an absolute pig sty. Crushed cans, broken bottles and chip packets were littered across the ground, confusing trash for leaves and sticks. As she walked deeper into the rubbish tip, she got a strong whiff of weed.

A popular hangout for stoners, she could tell.

As she stepped over broken branches and around stray logs that were likely used for seats, she scanned the area. It wasn’t so dense that she’s lose or way, or lose anyone else, but the little light showing through the grey clouds, and the amount of dead trees surrounding her, she found herself being unable to differentiate singular shapes from a large cluster. Then again, she had trouble doing that anyway.

Point being, she was finding it difficult to look for a dark grey colour against all the other greys surrounding her.

“Hey.”

She let out a startled yelp, before looking to her side. There he was, sitting down on a log, cherry slushie in hand.

“Where did you come from?” she blurted out. He blinked at her.

“I was here the whole time,” he said. “You walked right past me.”

Heather stared at him for a moment, irritated by that observation. Mainly because it was true - she had in fact walked right past that log without noticing his presence.

“Not my fault you blend in with this creepy fucking stoner corner,” she snapped.

“I don’t smoke weed, but okay.” He took a sip from his slushie. “Now, why are  _ you _ here? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I don’t take you for a stoner.”

Heather’s nose scrunched up and she averted her gaze, sipping from her coffee.

“I was going for a walk,” she mumbled. “And… you were just here.” She scorned. “Like a freak.”

“Sure, okay.” He turned around, away from her. “See you around then.”

Heather blinked at him, not moving from her spot. An awkward silence fell on them when she didn’t walk away. She knew she should have, but something made her stay put, and when no rustling of leaves sounded, JD looked back at her.

“I don’t think that’s walking.”

Heather bit her lip. “I…” She racked her brain for some sort of reply. “Should check how you’re doing.” She stepped forward and leaned against a tree, allowing JD to simply look to his side. “Since Veronica will be wondering.”

JD took a single sip of his slushie. “I’m doing fine, thanks. Not everything is unpacked, we’re still figuring out where everything should go. It’s a small house, after all.” He swirled the straw around with his finger. “Hopefully we’ll find a place for everything later today.”

Another silence fell on them both. Heather gritted her teeth, grinding them slightly. She didn’t want to say anything else, but she pushed through her own stubbornness.

“And what about your little episode you had yesterday?” she asked, swirling her coffee around in its cup in an attempt to act as casual as possible. “You recovered from that yet?”   


JD stared at her blankly. It was somewhat unnerving.

“Yeah. I’m fine now,” he said.

“Oh. Good for you.” She sipped from her cup to fill in the silence. “What was that again? A PTSD flashback?”

“Yes.” For once, she could see a glint of emotion in his eyes. He was curious. “Why do you ask?”

Heather shrugged. “I just remember you telling me about PTSD all those weeks ago.” Her feet shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t remember until last night. Probably should have though, don’t you guys freak out when you hear loud noises or something?”

JD’s bemused, yet piercing stare somehow made her stop talking.

“No. That’s specific to me.” He turned his body around to face her more directly. “And it isn’t loud noises. It’s the sound of explosions.” Her then rolled his hand forward. “You have any more questions?”

Heather bit the inside of her cheek.  _ Many. _

“So is that all it is?” she asked, gazing at her nails. “Do you just have flashbacks all the time, or is there more to it?” She wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted the answer to be.

She heard him sigh. “No, it is not having flashbacks all the time.” She looked up at him when she heard a hint of annoyance in his tone. “There’s a lot more to it.” He stared at her. “Why are you asking me again?”

In trying to think up a response, Heather felt herself unable to withhold her crude demeanor for any longer. Her body tensed up and she dug the sharp ends of her nails into her cup, scratching the surface restlessly.

“What’s it like?” she asked, her voice a murmur. JD looked up at her, suddenly looking intrigued. She grimaced. “Having a flashback, I mean. I… I don’t understand it.”

His expression softened ever so slightly, and he looked forward again, no longer trapping her with his stare.

“It’s like a daydream,” he began. “But it isn’t one you want. And it feels a lot more real. It’s not just like a daydream you have in a boring class, because you can break out of those whenever you please.” His head tilted up, his gaze wandering elsewhere. “You don’t realise it’s not real until you relive everything.”

Heather could feel her stomach churn. Already she wanted to stop this conversation, but she shook the feeling away and persisted.

“Relive what, exactly?” She felt like she already knew the answer, but she still wanted to know.

“Something traumatic,” JD said. “It doesn’t have to be what caused your PTSD. It often is, but sometimes other shitty memories are thrown in the mix.” He took another sip from his cup. “You know, it can be funny sometimes. The whole picture isn’t always there, just bits and pieces.”

“How so?”

“Like… sometimes you can smell something that isn’t there, but you don’t see anything. Or maybe you feel an emotion, but you can’t hear anything.”

Heather’s fingers gripped her cup tightly.

“You can smell things?” she murmured. “And hear things? And feel things?”

“Yes, that is what I said.”

“So it’s just like a dream,” she said. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was answering him, or simply echoing her own thoughts that had been lingering in her head for a while. “But you’re not sleeping.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“So that means it can appear in your dreams too, right?” She couldn’t be sure how disinterested she sounded. “If it’ll bother you while you’re awake, you’re gonna get it while you sleep too.”

JD slowly blinked at her.

“That’s why I’m out here,” he said. That caught her attention. She bounced off the tree she was leaning on.

“Huh?”

“I came to take my mind off things.” His eyes were attached to his slushie. “I didn’t expect to have a good night’s sleep last night. I was right in that assumption. It wasn’t great.” He took another sip. “But that’ll happen if you have a flashback a few hours before you go to sleep.” He shrugged. “I don’t need to have a flashback for that to happen, though. Sometimes my brain just decides to say ‘fuck you’ for no reason in particular.”

“Oh.” She could hear her own voice falter, just like how her attempt at distancing herself from what he was saying did the same. “So you get nightmares, huh?”

JD’s expression remained unchanging. “Night terrors are common, yeah.”

Heather fell back against the tree, the bark catching her hairs. No matter how much they pulled on her strands, though, she couldn’t find herself to pull away. Everything was falling into place. It was making sense.

She thought she wanted things to make sense, but now that it actually was, she was beginning to feel a heavy sense of regret weighing down her motivation to continue the conversation.

“So that’s it,” she muttered. “You can’t do anything about it. You’re fucked.”

JD fell silent, and Heather could easily interpret it as a grievous ‘yes’. Her expression turned sour, and she got ready to turn around and walk away.

“Wonderful,” she hissed bitterly.

“It’s hard,” JD spoke up again. “But it’s not like you can’t learn to deal with it.”

Heather looked back to him with interest.

“Eventually you’re able to recognise when something’s going to happen,” he explained. “There are certain signs to pick up on, you could say.”

Heather frowned. “So you just have to sit there and wait for it to pass?” she snarled. “I hardly see that as a good thing.”

“I disagree,” he said, sipping from his slushie again. He didn’t have much left. “If you know what’s coming, you’re able to give a heads up. You saw Betty in the car last night, didn’t you? She knew what was happening to me before it had properly begun.”

Thinking back to last night, Heather could indeed find familiarity in Betty’s comfort, only with someone else she knew. Regardless, she was unsure if it were a positive.

“It’s handy,” JD continued. “Say if you feel a mood swing coming on, for example. If you know what’s happening, you don’t risk upsetting your friends for no reason.”

“Huh?” She snapped her head up. “Mood swing?”

“Yeah, sometimes I just feel like shit for no reason at all.” JD shrugged. “Not in a depressive way, though. It isn’t constant. It just comes and goes. Kind of annoying, really.”

Heather froze.

“ _ Mood swings _ are a PTSD thing?” she said, bewildered. “I thought… but all it is is flashbacks! What do they have to do with it?”

“Beats me, I’m not a psychologist,” JD said.

“But that’s not  _ fair! _ ” she barked, slamming her hand into the tree behind her. Some of the bark crumbled off with ease. “I don’t  _ want _ to relive anything. I don’t  _ want _ to get nightmares about it. I don’t want it to control every aspect of my life, right down to how I fucking  _ feel. _ I just want to  _ forget about it! _ ”

Her voice echoed throughout the wooded area, bouncing off the swaying, naked branches. It split the thick silence that surrounded them, one that she had hardly noticed was there. But when she opened her eyes and looked around, listening out for any other sound, she couldn’t even hear a single bird song. Just a faint breeze. It felt… lonesome.

“That’s another symptom,” JD said. “Bad memory.”

“ _ I didn’t ask! _ ” Heather spat, before her voice grew quiet again. “And again… that isn’t fair.”

JD gazed back at her. Something had relaxed in his expression, but she couldn’t tell what. He didn’t reply, only shifted along the log, leaving more room. She stared at the wide space next to him, before hesitantly sitting. Her shoulders were stiff and her body coiled in on itself. Something about willingly sitting on the same seat as him, even if it was just a rotting log, felt wrong. She wasn’t supposed to mix with people like him. Not in any way at all.

“My symptoms didn’t show up until maybe a year after my trauma. Fun fact for you,” he said. His tone was awfully light, lighter than it should have been.

“Did that not confuse you?”

“Yeah. It took me another year to figure out what was happening.”

Heather stared at her feet, which shuffled uncomfortably in the leaves.

“Only a year?” she murmured.

“I had a counsellor in one of my schools. I don’t remember which one. Ha.” He tapped his head. “See? Bad memory.”

Heather blinked at him.

“I’ve been to ten high schools, but I hardly remember what experience happened in which. It all kinda fades into one blur.”

She scorned at him. “Stop acting so chill over this,” she growled. “None of this is a good thing. It’s not a mild inconvenience, this shit has literally been burning up my memory for the past year and I had no idea.”

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “What else can I do? Cry about it constantly? There’s no point.” His demeanour remained calm. Somehow. “I’ve learned how to deal with it by now. Sometimes it does get to me, I will admit, but what else can I do other than keep living my life?”

“But I  _ shouldn’t _ have it!” she spat, before backtracking quickly. “I mean…  _ you _ shouldn’t have it.”

He raised a brow at her, clearly not buying her charade. She sighed in defeat.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with me,” she murmured. “I spent junior year just… thinking it was hormones. Or stress. Or maybe it was just part of my personality. Maybe something was wrong with me, because no one else seemed to be going through what  _ I _ was going through.” She winced. “As it turns out, there actually is something wrong with me.”

“Wow. Thanks,” JD muttered dryly. Heather didn’t bother correcting herself, instead just continued to stare at the floor. 

“I just don’t understand  _ why _ ,” she continued, her voice cracking a little.  _ Nope. Not doing that here, and I mean it this time. _ “I never asked for this! I never wanted to be burdened with some stupid psychological condition that makes me relive a horrible moment in my life. Who  _ would _ want that? That’s so fucking stupid!”

“I think it’s meant to be your brain’s coping mechanism for a traumatic event.”

“Well it’s not a very good one, is it?” She scowled. “I never knew my brain was such a fucking pillowcase, but here we are. I’m sitting on a log at the back of a 7/11. With _you._ _Talking_ with you. Who would’ve thought?” She crossed her arms, still scowling at the ground, and pressing her cup against her arm, close to crushing it.

“I’m glad I’m such good company,” he said.

“Don’t hype yourself up,” she retorted. “I never wanted to be sitting here.” She frowned. “I don’t  _ want _ to be having this conversation.”

“Then why are you?” JD asked. “You can leave whenever you want, you know. I will be anything  _ but _ offended.”   


“I… I don’t know.” She stared forward, back at the path she took over here. “I think part of me was just curious. Maybe I got excited over not being alone in my experiences. But now…” She dug her teeth into her lip. “I don’t know if wanted to know. All this has done is shown me that I’m not normal.” She took a few more sips of her coffee in an attempt to distract her brain from spiralling into becoming overflowing with… thoughts. “There’s something wrong with me.”

“There isn’t.”

When she snapped her head towards him to shoot him a glare, JD shook his head.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Thank you.” Heather tried to look smug, but she had no idea how to achieve such an appearance. “I don’t feel any better.”

“I know.” JD straightened himself up. “There is something wrong with you, Heather, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything right with you either.”

“Right,” she grunted.

“Look, I’m not going to sit here and say that there’s nothing wrong with you,” he continued, his voice growing more serious, which caught her attention. She still didn’t look in his direction, though. “Because there is. PTSD isn’t a good thing. It’s unpleasant, it makes you experience things you don’t want to experience, it can make you behave in ways that you can struggle to explain why. It’s basically a scar from whatever happened to you, and scars aren’t pretty, like every other aspect of you is.” She saw him gesture to all of her in the corner of her eye.

“But Heather, you don’t give up when you get a scar. You don’t call it a day, and accept that it’ll never heal. At least, that’s what I’ve done. I didn’t give up.”

She dared to so much as glimpse at him.

“You don’t let one scar control your life, Heather. You learn how to adapt to it. Sure, you prefer it wasn’t there at all, but there’s no point reaching for a hope that isn’t even there in that moment.” His brow furrowed. “You just reach for the next best thing.”

Heather grew quiet, considering everything that he said. Everything made sense. Everything sounded reasonable. She probably should have just said ‘alright’ and called it a day, and end the conversation there. But an uncomfortable itching beneath her skin prevented her from doing so. A feeling of anger.

“Do you realise how  _ closed off _ I’ve become?” she hissed, lifting her chin up. “How long I hid everything away from everyone? How much I  _ hurt _ my friends? Hell, even  _ I _ don’t know how much I hurt them, all I know is that it was enough for them to dare to not talk to me for a while!” She grimaced in thinking back to her argument with Mac. “I shielded so much of myself so that nothing would slip out. And guess what, it worked, but as a result, all my friends got mad at me.” Her face scrunched up, fueled by rage. “And now you’re telling me that  _ I’m _ the one who’s suffering the damage?  _ I’m _ the one who has to fix all the shit that was done to me?”

She stood up, her hand crushing the coffee cup in her hand.

“ _ I _ wasn’t the one who hurt me. I shouldn’t be the one who has to fix me, either! It’s not  _ fair! _ ”

She stomped her foot against the ground, a twig snapping and her heel sticking to the moist dirt. She grunted in frustration as she pulled it back out again. When she did, her shoulders slumped, exhausted.

“Then again,” she murmured. “Maybe it is.” She fidgeted with her dented cup which had miraculously not spilled its leftover coffee. “Maybe this is all completely fair and I’m just suffering from the stupid shit I did that led me right here.” She just couldn’t understand. ‘Fair’ was supposed to be good. Everything should be fair, that’s how things  _ should _ work.

Then why is it that if this were to be fair, it would mean her parents would have been right all along?

_ Maybe they are. _ She grew solemn at the thought.  _ Maybe this is what they meant. I got myself into this mess, so I pull myself out of it again. It’s only fair. _

Her hand gripped her wrist.

_ I wouldn’t be complaining about this if it weren’t for me. _

“Heather.”

She snapped out of her thoughts, looking back at JD. He was staring at her with a stern glare.

“Look. I don’t like you. I think you’re a cruel person, and on the topic of fairness, you do anything but treat people fairly. You treat them like stepping stones to a worthless sense of popularity, and then continue to put other people down to raise your own status up, even if you’re not rising at all. You just make other people fall.” His voice was clear and calm, as if every word he said wasn’t enraging her more and more. “I would love for something to happen to you, for you to get a taste of your own damn medicine one day. And one day you will, and it will be glorious.”

Her face twisted with revulsion, her lip curling viciously.

“You really know how to make me feel better,” she snarled.

“I’m not finished,” he said. Out of pure curiosity, she bit back any sharp retort she could think of to let him continue, and simply tilted her chin up to stare down at him.

“In spite of all of that, Heather, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I don’t know what it was, and I’m not going to ask you what it was, but whatever it was, it was horrible enough for you to get PTSD from it. I don’t care how much I dislike you. You didn’t deserve it, and you certainly didn’t ask for it.”

His words hit her differently. They still hurt to hear, but not in a way that she wanted to throw a million insults back in his direction. Instead, she remained speechless, no longer holding her confident stance. At some point, her whole body had sunk, and her throat had begun to ache.

“Why are you telling me this?” she eventually said, her voice sounding much weaker than before. “You don’t like me, and I don’t like you.”

“Exactly.” JD held her gaze. “Anyone can tell you that something wasn’t your fault, but everyone who you tell about these things are going to be people who you trust, and those people, you’ll convince yourself, will tell you it wasn’t your fault no matter what.” The corner of his mouth raised ever so slightly. “So here I am, someone who you don’t like and don’t trust, and someone who despises everything you stand for, telling you that it wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t deserve it.” He shrugged. “So you know I’m being genuine.”

Heather stared at him, a little stunned. She was kind of mad, honestly. Mad that he was  _ right _ . She couldn’t argue with him, and it was  _ annoying _ . Why’d this knock-off goth kid have to talk to the most sense here?

She just sighed in defeat, sitting down next to him again, letting her body relax.

“You shouldn’t have to be comforting me over this,” she muttered. “It’s ridiculous.”

JD shrugged. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s just another symptom of PTSD to blame yourself for these things.”

She snapped her glare towards him.

“You’re  _ kidding _ me,” she groaned. “Jesus Christ, are there any other symptoms I should know about? Is  _ breathing _ a symptom?”

“Can’t think of any more off the top of my head. I’ll let you know if any others come to mind.” JD let out a light huff. “All I’m saying is I know how you feel.” The slightest of simpers on his face seemed to falter. “And it doesn’t always go away.”

Heather snorted in doubt. “Like you understand how I feel.”

“I do,” he insisted. “You don’t think I wonder almost every night, that maybe if I had been a better son, my mother would have had more to live for before she walked into a building my dad blew up seconds afterwards, waving me goodbye moments before she blew up?” He casually sipped what was left in his cup, while Heather stared at him in shock.

“I’m sorry, she did  _ what? _ ”

“I’ve always wished I could have been enough for her to stick around, even if it was for only a little longer. But I wasn’t.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

“But I was thinking about it wrong,” he continued, completely disregarding her questions. “For all I know, I  _ was _ good enough for her to stick around for a little longer. Maybe she would’ve done it much sooner if I wasn’t around. But who knows? Not me.” He shrugged, looking off longingly into the distance. “I can’t spend my life analysing her head, especially now that she’s gone. And I can’t blame myself for whatever she was going through, either. I was a child, what could I have possibly done differently, if I could go back and fix my mistakes? Probably nothing.” He looked back at her, finally. “You look a bit shaken.”

“I… I just didn’t expect your trauma to be so intense?” she squeaked out.

“I mean… it explains a lot.” He gestured to himself. “But, my point is, our traumas aren’t our fault, but PTSD likes to trick us into pointing fingers at the wrong person. When it does things like that though, I just need to remember to not listen to it.”

Heather nodded slowly in response.

“If you start thinking things like that, just remember it’s your PTSD talking, and like you said before, it has some really dumb ways of helping you cope with trauma.”

“It really does,” she mumbled, mostly to herself.

“So just remember to listen to the more rational thoughts. That part is sometimes difficult for me, because I don’t always have rational thoughts.”

“Shocker.”

JD then let out the briefest of chuckles. “And… you are right, you know. It  _ is _ unfair that we’re the ones with the scars, and it  _ is _ unfair that we need to learn to cope, and to adapt. It would be so much easier if we could just move on from our traumas without a second thought.” He sighed. “But life is full of unfair things. So the way I see it, you can either sulk about that fact, or make the best from what you have.” He gazed back at her. “You may be a bitch, but you’re strong. The whole school thinks so, and I think you know so too. You’re not powerless against it, you just need to learn how to live with it.”

Somehow, a sense of appreciation flooded through Heather. Even if those words didn’t drill themselves into her brain permanently, she could tell already by repeating them in her head that they were able to give her a sense of hope, if not for a little while.

“Sorry that you found out you had PTSD,” he added. “From me, no less. But at least now that you know what’s wrong, you know what to look out for.”

Heather bit her lip, taking it in. As nice and as optimistic as it sounded, she couldn’t help but hold onto a twinge of doubt that prevented her from smiling.

“Well… thanks, I guess,” she said, her tone flat. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She glowered at the ground as she stood up, brushing any stray bits of bark off of her skirt. “Not that I know where the hell to start,” she mumbled to herself, not expecting JD to hear her.

As she began to slowly walk away, each footstep feeling as though it quivered, he spoke again.

“Heather?”

“Oh, God,  _ what now? _ ” She turned around and glared at him with irritation. When her eyes landed on him though, her expression changed from annoyed to confused. He gazed back at her cooly, only now outstretching one hand towards her, with something golden dangling from his fingers. The closer she stepped, the more of the item she could make out.

“What is it?”

“A necklace. What do you think it is?”

On his palm lay a golden pendant in the shape of a bird - an eagle, she could see with a closer glance.

“I know it’s a necklace, I’m not stupid,” she jeered. “I mean, why are you showing it to me?”

“Take it.”

She stared at him, flummoxed.

“What?” Her nose wrinkled at the piece of jewelry. “You know I’m not going to wear this junk, right?”

“I know. I wouldn’t dream of it.” He rolled his eyes. “But I don’t need it, I’m always forgetting to wear it anyway.” He nudged it closer to her, and Heather hesitantly picked it up, scanning it closely. While she could tell it was a pretty cheap material, the bird pendant did actually look pretty. There were fine details on its spread wings and neck feathers, as well as its wide eyes. It was clearly old, and bits of the golden paint were chipped. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it.

“And you’re giving it to me… why?” She held it away from her by the chain, as if to keep it out of her radius.

JD didn’t speak for a moment, his mouth twitching.

“When I find myself having a flashback, or more like, about to have one, I’ve found that holding something that wasn’t with me at the time of my trauma really helps,” he explained. “It helps even more if that thing is cold or has a really strong taste.” He held up his slushie. “Why do you think I drink these all the time?”

She stared at the now-empty cup, a little baffled by the realisation. So he  _ didn’t _ have an abnormal addiction to these things. Or at least, it was less likely that he did.

“Obviously a slushie isn’t always available. Sometimes I’ll drink pure lemon juice. Or maybe I’ll bite into some ice. Hell, there have been times that we didn’t have any ice, so I just licked the inside of the freezer.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, but it worked.” He tilted his head to the necklace. “Now, you don’t have to wear that, but maybe it’ll help holding something given to you by me. Because… you know. You didn’t know me until recently.”

She looked at him, and then back at the necklace. Then back at him, with a raised brow.

“This is all to help me?”

“Yeah.”

_ Should I be suspicious? _ Is what she would have asked, had the offer not intrigued her. While she felt awfully helpless and pathetic taking a gift from  _ JD _ out of all people, she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t want to see if his words had any truth to them at all.

Begrudgingly, she shoved it in her pocket, scowling as she did so.

“Well,  _ thanks _ , I guess,” she muttered. “No guarantee that it won’t end up in the trash as soon as I leave.”

“I’ve come to expect that from you.”

She eyed him for a moment, before slowly turning her back on him.

“This conversation never happened,” she said in a low, threatening voice.

“If only that were true,” she heard him reply. Feeling reassured that her status at Westerburg was still somewhat secure, she  _ finally _ made her leave.

It was until she stepped back over that collapsed wall and out into the parking lot did reality feel like it hit her again. It had honestly felt like no time had passed at all, like they were in their own little realm.

Yeah, that was it, she thought to herself. That’s why she opened up so much to some random  _ loser _ who stalked the shadows of Westerburg. The one and  _ only _ reason, she was sure.

At least, she was sure up until she sat down in her car, back in her own little cage. There is where she took out the necklace again. Setting her crushed coffee cup aside, she took hold of it with both hands, turning it over delicately with her fingertips.

It was nothing special. It wasn’t her style. It was hardly worth a cent.

Despite all of that, though, against her better judgement, she didn’t toss it out her window. Instead, she just slipped it silently into her pocket once again, not sparing it a second glance.

She almost forgot it was even there as she started up her car again.

* * *

Standing at her doorway, Heather launched the packet of chocolate-covered espresso beans, hitting the bull’s eye that was Veronica’s head. Her girlfriend (that still sounded weird in her head) jolted up from the bed in surprise, looking around the room frantically. Then her eyes landed on her gift, and she shot Heather a glare. Heather just snickered to herself.

“Ow,” Veronica grunted as Heather made her way over to the bed.

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smirk, sitting down next to her. As soon as she did, Veronica shimmied along the bed and huddled up against her, the warmth of her body comfortable and sweet.

“What took you so long?” Veronica mumbled as she opened the packet up eagerly. Heather could only gaze at her enthusiasm for the treats with pride, and seeing her smile as she threw the first bite into her mouth made her heart do stupid, sappy things in her chest. Like fluttering.

“Oh… I got a bit held up,” she said with a shrug, opening up her bag of gummy cherries. Veronica gasped.

“You’re eating a snack that  _ isn’t _ corn nuts?” She covered her mouth in horror. “Is this the Heather I know?” She cupped her face to gaze directly in her eyes. Heather shook her off with a snort.

“I like other sweets too, you know,” she mumbled, mouth full of cherry flavour. “Besides, you didn’t even make an effort to look nice in all the time I was gone.” She pointed to the bird’s nest that was Veronica’s hair. Not that it wasn’t fluffy and cute and didn’t frame her round face in an adorably messy way, but… she forgot where she was going with that.

“I don’t need to make an effort for you. Fuck you,” she said, her mouth still half-full. Heather wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Swallow before you speak, you’re gonna get crumbs on my bed,” she snarked.

Veronica rolled her eyes, though she did indeed swallow.

“Bossy,” she said.

“My house, my rules.”

“Technically, it’s not your house.”

Heather frowned.

“My bed, my rules.”

“Now I  _ know _ that’s not true.”

Heather slammed a pillow into her face, while Veronica just rolled over and laughed.

“Fuck you,” Heather said, though any malice in her tone was put on. She knew the same could be said for the middle finger being held up towards her. She narrowed her eyes, before shoving the treats they were eating aside, all to climb over Veronica to straddle her.

“Oh my, what shall I do,” Veronica gasped, a hand on her chest. “How am I supposed to escape your wrath now?”

Heather smirked and leaned towards her, not stopping until their noses touched.

“You don’t,” she murmured against her lips, before closing the gap. She closed her eyes as she pressed her own lips against Veronica’s. The kiss was soft and tender, something that she still hadn’t gotten used to, even though it had been, what, two months since they first kissed?

_ Has it been that long already? _

Her lips curled against Veronica’s, forming a smile. That smile only grew when she felt hands wrap around the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Their chests pressed together, their hair tangled with one another.

“What are you smiling about?”

Heather’s eyes flashed open to see Veronica, accompanied with a teasing grin. Heather felt her face flush.

“Um… I just-” she stuttered. “I don’t know, I…”

She lifted herself up again and looked down at her, finding herself to be only met with love and adoration. Not the type she’s learned to feed on over the past few years. Just genuine, real love that she didn’t have to lure out of anyone.

In that moment, she wondered where she would be right now, had she never let Veronica back in the group. Had she never given her a chance, never let her in.

_ Would I still be closed off? _ she wondered.  _ Would Heather still hate me? Would Mac be talking to me at all? _

_ Would anyone know what happened to me? _

_ Would  _ I  _ know what happened to me? _

“It’s nothing,” she said softly. “I’m just…”

She slipped her fingers between Veronica’s.

“I’m happy I have you.”

Veronica smiled widely back at her.

“That’s very sweet. What brought it on?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

“About me?” Veronica batted her lashes.

“Yeah,” she murmured, smiling.

_ What would I do without you? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I LOVE CHANDLER AND JD'S FRIENDSHIP EXPECT MORE OF IT IN FUTURE
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoyed this chapter !! Chandler finally figured out what's up with her (granted, there is more, but sssshhhhh) and now she can finally figure out how to help herself !!! maybe !!! hopefully. hm.
> 
> also that last line of this chapter wasn't important at all don't think about it too much.
> 
> if you liked this chapter (and the whole fic) please do comment !!! comments keep my motivation going. i also appreciate kudos !!!
> 
> oh, and happy holidays !!! this will likely be my last update before the holidays arrive (or not, who knows) but just in case it is, i hope y'all have a wonderful time !! or if the holidays aren't so great for you, i hope you'll get through them okay.
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> anyway, there's gonna be another (shorter) chapter to this fic !! i look forward to writing it a lot.
> 
> veronica why do you always talk at the worst times what the fuck.
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


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